Each day I want to wake up and think about how I can turn over and look at something cool. I dont have to wake up hearing the sounds of gun shots in the air or other marines yelling out commands.
To be home means a lot to me and most dont understand that. My girl does and see was torn up
when she got word that I had been shot three times in the side. But she knew that I was a boy that did not like to give up. It all depends on what you deal with. Each day I thank god that I am alive and sometimes even wonder why I am. Does
he have a plan for me that I am not aware of yet. Does he need me to do something that I have no clue where to start. Each passing day I look at my friends and just want to cry because I am actually with them and they can talk to me in person without having to wait for me to email them
