Defection.

You fight. You fight every second of every day. You fight so hard that every inch of you starts to sore. You fight even though after every battle you struggle to glue yourself together. You fight so hard although you know which will be the outcome. You fight until you can’t breathe anymore. You fight until you can’t feel anymore. You fight.

This whole war is suicidal and deep down, you know it. But you’re being dragged in it by people around you and you have to play the game. Because in the end, it’s all just a game. A game that kills you for the greater good. A game which you willingly play by the rules of someone you can’t see. Or trust. There is no difference between a game and a war. 

There comes a time when you can’t glue yourself together anymore. Or you won’t. You simply put down all the weapons and say “I’m here. I’m ready. Shoot.” And then, there’s silence. Because no one wants to make it easier for you. Because you are needed on the battlefield. And you know it. But you still wait a couple more minutes just in case. But bailing out was never that easy. And you are needed to heal the wounded. So, you stay. So, you fight.

They never ask about your wounds. They don’t know you have any. You never showed any. Maybe they were too blind to see. Maybe you were too proud to ask for any help. But once in a blue moon, you reach the end of your strength. That’s as far as you can go. That’s the place where all your hopes and dreams and aspirations die. That’s the place where you can’t fight anymore. So, you surrender. To your mind.

You make yourself strong because it's expected of you. You become confident because someone beside you is unsure. You turn into the person others need you to be.