My parents are rich, but I never cared about money, I just wanted to fight for my dream, for what I love, so I joined the military as soon as I was 18, and my parents didn’t like that at all. They didn’t even say goodbye when I left. But that was expected. Now coming back after my first deployment, 2 years later, and I’ve officially finished all my training, so it’s the day we all line up and get tapped out.

Now, I have to watch all my comrades get tapped out by family or their girlfriend or spouse or friend. They have someone. But, it’s at this moment that I realize…I don’t have anyone. I mean, I’ve never even liked anyone before, I’ve never had a girlfriend or even held a girl’s hand before just because they’re all so fake and only want my money and I don’t even find them attractive, so I don’t care about that. It’s my family that bugs me. No one who will tap me out. It’s as if I’m standing in the midst of a joyous crowd, yet I’m isolated on a desolate island of my own making. The emptiness is deafening, but I swallow it down, trying to mask the heartbreak with a brave face.

I watch their smiles, the embraces that warm the soul, and I feel the sting of my own solitude. Each hug, each tear of joy is a reminder of what I’ve never had and perhaps never will. My heart aches with each step my comrades take toward their loved ones, and yet I stand strong. I refuse to let my knees buckle under the weight of this moment. The tears build up, a dam about to break, but I hold them back, refusing to let them expose the void in my heart.

I’m happier when I’m gone and so are they. Depressing, huh? But I’m glad my comrades are happy at least, even as the tears build up. I’m left in the shadows of this bitter sweetness, strong yet undeniably broken. My heart bears the scars of longing and disappointment. I hold onto the fleeting hope that one day, my story will be different—that I won't stand alone, shadowed by the absence of familial love. But for now, I swallow the pain, standing resiliently amidst the heartbreak.