My Personal War. In the presence of his family, a man I had been dating asked me to marry him. It almost seems as though it is Marshall E. We were sitting side-by-side on a sofa, with him to my right. He turned his body sideways to better face me, pulled out an engagement ring, and proposed. I quickly glanced around the room at the members of his family and they all seemed very pleased by this. I was quite taken aback, not expecting this proposal at all. I hesitated, unsure that I loved him, or at least unsure that I loved him enough to marry him. Now there was some kind of battle going on outside. Someone helped us escape the danger. We were outside running away from it, running on patterned cement with flecks of color in it. When we got to a certain point, we knew we were free. We all then split up and went our separate ways. I am in a house with a number of people. They are bringing people inside who are injured. The man, Marshall E, who asked me to marry him, is one of them. They have the injured people laying on something, I don't know if it is tables, beds, or gurneys. There are white, sheer curtains covering all of the windows. I and another woman are each standing at opposites sides of a window and move the curtains just enough with our hands to be able to see outside. The building is surrounded by the military and everyone out there is engaged in active fire. I hate this. I hate violence. I'm thinking about Marshall E. I haven't gone over to him since they brought him in. I feel like I should, but I'm concerned that if I do he will read something into it. I haven't given him an answer yet to his proposal. I still don't know how I feel and if I want to say yes.  There is another injured man in there that they know is not going to survive. Someone goes over to him, reaches into the injured man's stomach with his hands, and pulls out one of his internal organs. He then takes the organ over to Marshall E and puts it in him. This is going to save Marshall E's life. I think I end up leaving with Marshall E.