I could leave this behind here: the frozen mountains, the dried out scorched valleys, the sun drenched earth, I could leave the stench of piled rotten garbage, worn out villages and villagers with looks that would kill and not love no matter what the season is. 

I could leave the daily crack of dawn and the dreaded dusk, when your days may be numbered and still.  I could leave my bunk, sleeping bag, and a worn calendar with numbers neatly crossed out but only for the days leading up to a bold "Short Timer" statement.

I could leave Mom's emails, the same story written time and time again, "Don't forget to brush our teeth. We miss you."

I could leave everything that touched me, Dad's last hand shake, Mom's warm embrace, and an imaginary no-show girl friend at the airport. " A grateful nation I'm told to leave behind.

For every combat patrol, those lonely nights on foot, I touched the hand of God and He always told me to let go and leave things behind. I didn't know what that meant but I felt it.

Today, I could leave the parties I loved, the love I lost so easily, and the Christmas that should have been.

After that betrayed insider attack, those sights, sounds, and smells of the combat hospital I glimpsed at the road ahead and what my sudden departure would be like, and yes, I could leave all of this behind and I don't need anything more or less.