It’s been a hundred years now. A century. Gone. Slipped away. Where am I now, and where is the world in its course? Are we any closer to finally ending war like they said we would?
Was it really worth it to die that way?
I feel I’ve been robbed of something that can never be replaced. I can heal but I can never forget. His life- a life that was once mine- is etched into the fibre of my being now.
Farewell, John. But not goodbye. I’m not ready for that yet.