Understanding

 

 

 

 

Understanding

Frank knew that both he and Amy were type cast in their roles. He was the wounded soldier with PTSD and she was the understanding but struggling girlfriend/ex girlfriend. She really tried her best to support him and be there. By being there she endured her own Hell. That of hearing his stories, feelings and experiences. He was reliving and re-acting them. Amy had never seen a man cry before. A powerful strong muscular one like Frank. She knew he was proud of his service but fought strong demons. The price of what he'd done in the jungles of Venezuela. She wondered how he would be if he never went there? Would they still be together or would some mundane issue ruin their relationship? He wasn’t one for cheating or abusing women. He was quiet and thoughtful. His sensitivity was what added to his troubles. He dwelled on things. She taught him this wasn't a good way. He needed to understand and move on after processing all the events. Frank had seen a specialist several times. Amy had been there. They were raw meetings. It all came out. More than he told her. Afterwards he was calm like he was free. But it came back in cycles. Different things setting it off. In time this pushed Amy away. She put up walls to protect her own sanity and became distant. Then she silently left one day. Frank still messaged her but rarely got a reply. Like being in the jungles he was alone again. His service pistol was on the small bedside table. It was loaded. Always there always ready. Like he was. Frank the soldier. In his small rented room near the bar. He had to go to work. Not think about the killing or death.

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