If you have stumbled upon this journal, greetings. My name is Dr. Floris Gardener I was a medic during World War II. I’m running out of time and I must confess my final thoughts as I lay here on my bed in the comfort of my own home. You see I was diagnosed with a fatal disease. Feel free to share a laugh with your mates. Imagine the irony of a medical doctor getting fatally ill. We found it early but, I chose not to fight it. As you can guess it has gotten much worse. I am unable to stand and I cough out blood from time to time. You might be wondering why I chose death over life Well… When you come face to face with death for a living, you no longer fear it. I have witnessed so much pain in my life as you can guess it would surely make your average person quite mad. Perhaps I am mad… maybe just a little. But aren’t we all?

As I look back on my life I have lived through two world wars. I’m 57 now and the longer I live the more painful it becomes to live in a world where so many problems persist. I’ve witnessed so many of my best mates crying pleading for their lives in agony and the very first thought in many of their minds was “I don’t want to die”. I can vividly remember every instance that I had to look at them dead in their watery big red eyes and say “You will be ok ” Your wife and kids will be waiting for you when we come back. I Promise. I lied and I had to lie often. I had to lie so much that I had to question reality. I prayed to whatever Gods where out there that this was all a nightmare but, it felt as if the nightmare was on a loop. It always came back around. I cried a lot in those earlier times eventually, I grew accustomed to the scene of death and its stench. The smell of blood, slaughter, and burning flesh from a corpse that exploded with missing limbs. As I look outside my severely cracked window, I see a world that is split into many different pieces. The deeper the cracks the more fragile it becomes then, it shatters. I wonder how deep the cracks are in this world before it too shatters. If you haven’t guessed I also have a bad case of PTSD. That causes me to have random panic attacks and really bad nightmares.

I forgot to mention I have a wife who I once loved more than life itself. Now she has to see me lay here hopelessly on this bed as the clock keeps ticking. Each tick of the clock becomes louder and louder, one step closer to death. However, I never thought how this might make her feel. She has had a tough time seeing me in my current state. It hurts me every time I see her crystal blue eyes she can’t hide the pain from me. The world was once colorful and beautiful where you had hope for a future, and now it looks black and grey but perhaps it is from the smoke and debris of collapsed buildings. You see, we are currently rebuilding. London was heavily bombed by the Germans so, I can’t quite seem to escape chaos it follows me around like a shadow. As humans we look for a God to instill hope in us but, that hope has now perished. How can a God if it’s out there allow such suffering and relentless violence? No human should have to see what I saw on that battlefield. I saw the shift from humans to savages. Despite losing hope for myself I genuinely hope my wife finds it. She is much younger than I am. She is 49. She still has time to seek it. In many ways, I feel like I have been the anchor that is holding her back from happiness. I’m a defeated fragile human who cannot look after himself. I’m no longer a man, I’m no longer the man I once saw each morning in the reflection of the mirror. And I’m no longer the same man I was. She fell in love with a man who sought to help others and was kind, not a man that is crazy. My mind has turned its back on me, it has abandoned me. I’m forever lost in the images of war and death. I’ve worked myself to death mentally and physically. I endured long hours trying to keep soldiers alive but the images still haunt me when I close my eyes. Often I can’t sleep at night. I’m afraid of dreaming and reliving memories I wish I never had. That battlefield killed my soul. No matter how hard I try I will never be back to the man she fell in love with. How is that fair?

For as often as conflicts happen between humans the result has always been the same, People die, the World economy dies, rebuilding and meeting the same fate. Fighting isn’t supposed to be a part of our human conditioning yet we continue to fight pointless wars for political gain and greed. Then the loop makes its way around again. Is it selfish of me that I chose to die? Or is it selfless? I cannot decide. Does it really matter? I would like to think that I’m doing it for her. I love her dearly but I can’t be the same person she once loved. Perhaps she will find another somewhere out there. Someone who will make her happy, not someone she will feel sorry for when she looks at his carcass slowly rotting in front of her own eyes. My mind was the first to go. I’m simply a shadow of my former self. I’m lost in the labyrinth that is my mind. I was broken beyond repair. Perhaps my illness was a sign from a God that it was truly for the best, the best for me, and the best for her. Or maybe this was the first decision I really had control over.

I would be lying if I said I wasn’t afraid. Is there a God? Was I a good person? Was I a bad person? I think these are thoughts that would be considered normal for humans to feel. I feel like calling my wife over and confessing to her. She does not know about the chance I had to fight my illness. Will this be the sin that sends me to Hell? Lying to her so that she can be happy? Looking after those you love?

I would like to spend my final moments with her to let her know I still love her and that is why I had made this sacrifice. You know I regret many things as I look back now. I regret that we never started a family together, I regret being born in such a chaotic time. It killed my happiness. I regret fighting a STUPID war! That ruined my life. Despite the sacrifice of those who died on the battlefield and suffered for those who will never understand who you were and what you stood for. I must call her. Not much time is left. I feel death staring me down at the edge of the slightly open door. Further in the distance, I can see my wife Daisy’s blurred figure, sitting on the couch wither her legs up to her chest hugging her knees tight like she was giving her legs a bear-tight hug. I feel the gravity pushing down on my chest.

“ DDDaiseeh!!! *Cough Cough” Floris screamed out to the utmost power his body would allow. She came rushing in wiping her eyes on the way to the room. She peeks in slowly moving reluctantly. In a soft voice that cracked when she said “ Yyyyesss dear? Is there anything you would like me to do? Do you need to go to the restroom again? Or are you hungry?

“No Daisy, I just wanted to see how you are holding up.” says, Floris.

“ I’m doing ok…. I’m happy you are back”

“ was she really happy to see me?” Floris thought.

“Is she lying?”

“Does she think I’m dumb?”

“ I can clearly hear the pain in her voice.”

“I can see she is sad.”

“It hurts me so much to see her looking at me like that with those glimmering big blue eyes that show a shine that is hard to ignore.”

“ PLEASE do not look at me like that…”

“ Yes, I’m happy I’m back!” Floris says silently with a fake smile.

“ I can see your face every morning when I wake up for a change, instead of other men.”

Daisy gives a silent chuckle that shows parts of her teeth.

“That is the last image I wanted to see…”.