Rest in Peace

June 22nd 2010 @ 0200

I can’t sleep. I didn’t enough yesterday, thanks to getting to sleep at dawn and being woken up at 9 by the rabbit peeing on me. I figured I’d be asleep by ten o’clock. But nope. Here I am, awake, and feeling downright lousy.

Neil texted me earlier this evening, to tell me that his brother had died. Paul Warren was a marine with the 40th Commando in Helmand in Afghanistan. On June 21st 2010 he was killed during a grenade attack on his base. He was only 23.

I didn’t know Paul well, because he was usually away while I was there, and when he was there we didn’t really speak. But I am gutted. Amongst many, many different emotions and thoughts whirling through me at the moment, I’m worried about Neil. He doesn’t do emotion well, and grief is most definitely an emotion. A very strong one. At the moment he’s busy sorting his parents out, and hasn’t let it get to him, but it will. In a day or two it’ll hit him, and I have no idea how he’ll cope. He withdraws when he episodes, he closes off. I’m terrified what’ll happen now.

I wish I could hold him. I don’t know if he wants to be held right now, but I want to do whatever he needs. I’ll listen, I’ll hold him, I’ll let him cry, I’ll let him ignore me for a while. That last one is a dangerous path though. I don’t want to lose him. I really, really don’t want to lose him. I don’t want him to withdraw so far that he disappears, and with him that’s a real possibility. I won’t bug him. I’ve told him that I’m here for him, he knows that I’ll do anything I can. I won’t pester him if he doesn’t want to talk, but I will make sure he texts me at least once a day to let me know he’s alright. I’m scared. I’m so sorry about Paul, but I’m very, scared for Neil. Does that make me a bad person?

I feel horrible about Paul, and about how he died. I feel guilty, because I don’t even know why British troops are in Afghanistan. I have absolutely no idea. I don’t pay attention to current affairs. Especially stuff like wars and death. So, not only did Paul get killed defending his country and serving his queen, but the people back home don’t even know why. That makes me feel horrible.

I don’t think Neil will want me at the funeral – although I wouldn’t hesitate going if he did want me to. But I feel like I need some way to honour Paul’s memory. So I’ve been browsing the Support Our Soldiers website. There are lots of things I can do. I’m going to make up a care package to send to a soldier out there, and I’m going to write letters. One of the things that the site suggests is Thank You letters. The soldiers love receiving them, to remind them what they’re fighting for. I’m going to write one. Two. Hundreds. I didn’t know Paul, I didn’t know why he was there, but I will honour him.