I’ve never thought I would miss my mom's lentils.

I went abroad nearly two years ago to fight for my country.

You’re probably thinking that this is the last will of a dying soldier lying in the battlefield; a plate of lentils.

Though, if they offered them I wouldn't deny them.

I’m writing this from my bunk bed, it’s probably three AM & I can’t sleep.

They just sign the peace, we’re coming back home. & afterall I can’t sleep. I have a lot to think about.

I could say that I saw a lot of people die, that all the things that I saw marked me, & I wouldn’t be lying, but that’s not keeping me from sleeping. The people I killed stays in my head, unerasable & unmoving. I already got used to their tortuous look. Fallen war buddies, enemies, innocents. Pale faces in my mind.

&. even like that, with all of that death on my shoulders, the thing that is taking my sleep is the fear of the world outside the battlefield.

I’m afraid of peace.

Ironic, right?