It’s late again and I can’t sleep, and I’m thinking about that playgroup and how I just stood there, and how it’s always the same, and I just… I can’t seem to connect with them, and it makes me feel like there’s something wrong with me, and I’ve always been good at being part of a unit, you know, being part of something bigger than myself, but this, this civilian life and these suburban dads, they just talk about sprinkler systems and the Patriots, and it’s like a broken record, and I just stand there, nodding and making the right noises, and I think about all the things I could say, all the things that actually matter, and how hard it is sometimes, and the fear that just sits in your stomach like a rock when you’re responsible for a whole new little person, and how much my own dad struggled, and how I don’t want to be like that, but I just smile and nod and pretend I care about lawn fertilizer, and it’s EXHAUSTING. And I feel like such a coward, and I know I should just say something, but the words get stuck, and it’s not like I don’t know how to talk about hard things, but that was different, that was… orders, and duty, and you just did it, and you didn’t have time to think about it, and you certainly didn’t have time to feel it, and now, all these years later, all these years I’ve tried to just put it all away, and I’m a father now, and it’s all coming back, and I want to be open, I want to be a good example, and I see these younger guys, and they’re all so quick to just talk, but they’re not talking about anything REAL, and I just want to shake them sometimes and say, "Don't you get it? This is important. This is your legacy, and it’s HARD," but I don’t, and I just stand there, and my wife says I need to make an effort, and I AM trying, but it just feels… pointless. And I wonder if they’re doing the same thing, if they’re all just pretending too, and if maybe they’re just as scared as I am, but we’re all just playing this game, and it’s a stupid game, and I just wish someone would just say something, anything, about how much they’re struggling, or how much they love their kid, or how terrifying it all is, and maybe then I could too, but I don’t know, and I just keep thinking about all the things I never said, all the things that should have been said, and now I’m 59, and it feels like time is running out to actually… connect, and I just keep wondering if I’m just fundamentally broken or something, and if I’ll ever truly understand how to just be a normal civilian dad.