It was like the worst kind of torture to have to sit here and wait. Not able to do anything, and acting as if nothing was wrong. I guess missing you was a forbidden act for a supposedly emotionless soldier like me.

I wasn't emotionless; I just had trouble showing that I cared.

When the news came that you were never coming back. I cried. I didn't care who was watching or what they thought of me. It didn't matter anymore.

Whenever I visited your grave with the rest of the group; it was always raining. The funny thing was, I could feel the rain on my face, but no one else could.

Comments or criticism is welcome. (Please don't be rude, and, yes, I know it is short.)