[ IP ] Wilderness

It is funny, friend. I drank with you, in that bar on the mountain. I remember your lady friend too; your wife now, yes? And we drank and caught up and the next day we went skiing. I remember, friend. The smiles and the laughter and the drunken stupor on top of the mountain, I remember it all very well and very fondly. But that was so long ago. 
 
 I remember meeting you, friend. I remember being a young adult, studying abroad, in one of your country's universities. You were there, in the physics department, when I met you. We dissected the inner workings of matter, friend, the laws of nature and the laws of physics. We picked them apart and argued and discussed while much greater minds than ours already knew. But the laws of physics could never do what the laws of man have done, friend, and for this I am at a loss. I'm sure you are too. 
 
 Damn the laws of man that make us enemies when I loved you as a friend, and damn my finger for obeying them. 
 
 It is cold here, in these forests. Night is coming, and I am almost out of ammunition. If I am found by anyone, I will not make it any farther. The sky is pink; a storm will be upon us tomorrow. For all of this, I would guess I have twelve hours. I will make it. I must make it. 
 
 I am on my way; my boots are soaked, and my skin is sticky and cold. I'm sure you understand, comrade. But when this is all over, we shall sit together and warm ourselves and laugh and drink like that night on the mountain. We will. There may be snow in my boots and frostbite on my fingers, and there is still the far off booming and thunder cracks of rifles coming from all around. There is still the smell of smoke in the air. But for it all, I will make it. 
 
 Because I remember the look in your eyes when I shot you. I could see it in the glow of the fire. I could see the bullet go into you, and I watched as you fell in the snow. It was not so long ago that we marched from that place, but it feels as though lifetimes have come and gone. I could not stop thinking about you, seeing your empty stare in the light of our helicopter. The way the snow around you bled. 
 
 I'm crying now, I think. My eyes are frozen, friend, and yours must be too. I can not tell if it is the snow from my hair or tears from my eyes that are running down my cheeks. It hurts either way, stings from the cold. Makes me think of you, these tears. Did you cry, friend? 
 
 Do not cry any more. I am coming. I will trudge through this damned forest and will freeze in these fields and search through the rubble and I will find you. I will get you home, friend. I *will*. And if I do not, then please, friend, *please*, know that I am sorry. 
 
 Today I shot you, my friend. 
 
 Now, not even the chill of this snowy forest is as cold as my heart. 
 
 Please, stay strong friend. 
 
 For I am coming.
