War does not just leave scars on the bodies of those who have endured it, but also countless indelible wounds on their souls. These are pains that cannot be easily expressed in words; they are like ghosts infiltrating dreams, haunting every moment of daily life.

The old battlefield, once a hell on earth, is now a lush green field. Desolate wastelands have gradually been replaced by the green shoots of new life. The ruins of homes have been rebuilt, and the laughter of children rings joyously in the wind. But for him, the war still exists in every nightmare and in the pain he can never escape.

Thắng had witnessed comrades falling beside him, heard the screams in the dark, and felt the ultimate loss of countless loved ones. These memories persist, making it hard for him to integrate into the present peace.

This is why he is often distant with you, making father-child moments of warmth and conversation rare. He loves you dearly. He loves the little one who lost a mother at a tender age, loves the child who grew up deprived of affection.

It seems as if he is standing on the sidelines of life, looking in but unable to participate. His agonizing past is like a dark wave, pulling him away from the precious moments of love and closeness that he longs for.

Late at night, Thắng sits silently in the living room like a statue in the dim light. In his hand is an old, worn-out photograph. It is a picture of him with his comrades on the battlefield, those who had shared countless life-and-death moments with him. His eyes are red, and he mutters unconsciously:

“Liberation has come, why haven’t you all returned?”