MarxistPanda
Super-Earth
- Joined
- May 23, 2010
Rich wasn't sure how to respond to her request at first. What if he had an episode in the middle of the night. It'd been a very long time since he'd slept in the same bed with another person. Especially one this small. Rex wasn't there to bring him back from the nightmares.Slowly his head turned to her and he shifted himself from on top of her to laying down beside her, his arm laced around her just below the ample swells of her breasts, enjoying the warmth he found there.
"Can I talk to you about something first?" Gently he pressed his forehead to her temple and kissed her cheek gently. "I was discharged from the military because I developed PTSD. This was when I was suppose to come home from my original contract, but what I didn't tell anyone is that I reenlisted for another four years. I was going places and I didn't want to give it all up. But then..." He searched his mind for the words; the painful crippling words. The addition of weakness, of defeat. "...I became sick."
He had stronger, more self destructive terms of it that he used in his head, but he knew that she would scold him for using them just as his counselor and commanding officer did. They did their best to re-assure him that he was a fine soldier and that his condition was an injury of war just as any physical wound he could have received. He tried his best to believe them but he never wood. He would never get over the flight home, in a plane full of men and women missing arms or legs. Or burns that would scare them for the rest of their lives. While he sat there at the height of his physical prowess, strong and able-bodied, being sent home because he was deemed too psychologically damaged to continue his service. The only thing that kept him from opening the bay door and jumping out was Rex; with his paws on his thighs as he licked the salty tears from his face before any of the other soldiers could see them.
"I am prone to nightmares in which I lash out in the physical world. I react poorly to surprises and sometimes physical touch." He paused for a moment, feeling the lump of despair in his throat, making it harder for him to talk. "I would love to spend the night up here with you," his arm gently moved up and down her opposite arm, caressing her skin, "But I am too afraid that I would hurt you in my sleep. We could go back to my place and you can spend the night if you'd like. My bed is much bigger there and Rex is there...in case I have an episode." He tore himself apart in his mind for not having the courage to do this one simple thing. He wanted to slam his fists against the sides of his head again and again, but simply set his jaw tightly and closed his eyes until his self-destructive anger had passed. He was terrified of how she would react. Logic told him she would understand, that their love was stronger than his illness. But he was still terrified of her shunning him away as so many had done before.
"Can I talk to you about something first?" Gently he pressed his forehead to her temple and kissed her cheek gently. "I was discharged from the military because I developed PTSD. This was when I was suppose to come home from my original contract, but what I didn't tell anyone is that I reenlisted for another four years. I was going places and I didn't want to give it all up. But then..." He searched his mind for the words; the painful crippling words. The addition of weakness, of defeat. "...I became sick."
He had stronger, more self destructive terms of it that he used in his head, but he knew that she would scold him for using them just as his counselor and commanding officer did. They did their best to re-assure him that he was a fine soldier and that his condition was an injury of war just as any physical wound he could have received. He tried his best to believe them but he never wood. He would never get over the flight home, in a plane full of men and women missing arms or legs. Or burns that would scare them for the rest of their lives. While he sat there at the height of his physical prowess, strong and able-bodied, being sent home because he was deemed too psychologically damaged to continue his service. The only thing that kept him from opening the bay door and jumping out was Rex; with his paws on his thighs as he licked the salty tears from his face before any of the other soldiers could see them.
"I am prone to nightmares in which I lash out in the physical world. I react poorly to surprises and sometimes physical touch." He paused for a moment, feeling the lump of despair in his throat, making it harder for him to talk. "I would love to spend the night up here with you," his arm gently moved up and down her opposite arm, caressing her skin, "But I am too afraid that I would hurt you in my sleep. We could go back to my place and you can spend the night if you'd like. My bed is much bigger there and Rex is there...in case I have an episode." He tore himself apart in his mind for not having the courage to do this one simple thing. He wanted to slam his fists against the sides of his head again and again, but simply set his jaw tightly and closed his eyes until his self-destructive anger had passed. He was terrified of how she would react. Logic told him she would understand, that their love was stronger than his illness. But he was still terrified of her shunning him away as so many had done before.