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// A Wife's Burden 
// Story: A Hero's Homecoming 
// by Whiter Penmanship 
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Dear, Ivory Streak,




Some days are good. Some are bad. I never know from one day to the next what to expect from you. I sometimes don't know from minute to minute how you will react to even the most mundane daily happenings.

Your moods seemingly change every minute and I have to make split-second judgments on what I should say or do. It's like walking on eggshells every minute of my life. Even the most innocent of remarks can send you into one of your frenzies. The stress is sometimes more than I can bear.

Today is a bad day. They seem to come along just when things are going pretty good, or at least seem to be. I know that the anger isn't my fault and that I didn't cause it, but I must bear the brunt of it until this crisis passes.

I am between you and the foals. I am between you and society. I am between you and the world. But each time I am put in that position, I get a little weaker. I get a little closer to falling off the edge. I die a little more inside.

I love you. I know that deep down inside, no matter what is going on, you love me too. I know that these terrible times are caused by memories too painful for you to remember, but too traumatic for you to dismiss.

Sometimes, at night, I watch you. I see you toss and turn, I hear you talking to those whose final moments you witnessed and can never forget. I watch you in your communion with your ghosts from war. I hear you cry and wish that the tears would wash your haunting memories away.

Although you aren't aware of me, I am there beside you through your most terrible nightmares. Each time I hear you cry out in anguish, it’s like I'm being stabbed through the heart. I cry with you sometimes and you don't even know. Night after night I go with you back in time, to another place, when you were young and afraid. But I cannot let you know that I'm there.

When the nightmare gets too much to handle, and you wake up screaming, I pretend to be sleeping. But I still watch as you get up, light your cigarette and begin your nightly patrol. I see you checking behind the doors for unseen enemies. I see you check the windows. I listen to you go through the entire house as if some deadly adversary lurked in every shadow. I lay quietly, feigning sleep, my wings tucked tightly against my sides in fear, praying that you will know who I am when you return to bed. I hold my breath as you return to the bedroom, wondering if tonight is the night you will think I am the same enemy you fought and if indeed you will try to kill me. Some nights you stand over me, staring down at me as if you don't know me. Those are the nights that I fear the most. I feel your presence and your eyes on me. That's when I pray. It always feels like those moments may be my last, but know that I will die loving you.

I knew the happy reception wouldn't be happening when you just trotted past your friends at your homecoming. You didn’t even glance at them, just quietly ushered me and the children home. But how could you face them? How can you look at them when you still blame yourself for what happened? Your friend was their friend too. But you had no control over it. Why can’t you see that?

I wish there was some magic with the ability to cure this disease called war. I wish the past could be buried and forgotten. But I know that it can't be. I know that I will fight this war until death, or madness claims one of us. Sometimes it actually occurs to me that death will be our only release from this nightly torture we both go through… seperate, yet together.

Days are just as bad, when the nightmares become the flashbacks. There's nothing I can say or do to make you forget. All I can hope for is that you will someday be able to cope with all of the traumas. It scares me that you sometimes see our world through younger eyes. Those eyes don't see the same world as I do. The world seen through them is far away… through time and distance. The people in that world are trying to kill you and I know you will try to kill them first. But what if it is one of our foals that you are seeing as the enemy?

Would I have the power to stop you?

I always know I am in for a particularly bad time when you start drinking. If you would only stop after a few, it might not be so bad. But you never do. It seems that when the alcohol hits, the ghosts all come out of their hiding places to haunt you, even before Celestia's sun goes down. I cannot even begin to count the holes in the walls and doors that have been patched over the years by your powerful hooves. I've probably gone through a dozen sets of glassware, not to mention the good Crystal Empire imports that were left to me by my mother.

Every pane of glass in the house has been replaced at least once after you have either bucked it or thrown something through it. It's a joke having a waterbed, really. I must have been crazy buying it. It has more patches on it than a patchwork quilt. But the broken things can be repaired. It’s the shredding of my soul that cannot be fixed. And every experience tears it up just a little bit more.

Why do I stay with you? Because I know that you are a good pony at heart. I know that the stallion I fell in love with is in that body and most of the time that's the one I see. I know that you cannot help what this terrible affliction called war has done to you. I know it isn't me that you're mad at, it's just that I'm available for you to vent your anger and frustrations on. And I pray that someday the effects of war will fade away, although, deep down... I know it just won't happen.

I love you and would want you to stay by me if some horrible affliction affected me. I married you for better or for worse. Even if it seems the worse outweighs the better, I get through it by remembering the good times. I am lucky enough to have friends who are going through the same thing with their husbands and sons, and are always there to give me the strength and support I need during the periods of crisis that come.

I know that it hurts you when you face all the things that are out of control in your life, especially those times when you lash out at me, both verbally and physically. I know that you wish you could be different. Just know, sweetheart, that I will stand by you through everything, good or bad, and we can never give up. We are still fighting wars... yours was in the field of war, and mine is the war left in you. We will not surrender. We will fight for the rest of our lives, if necessary, but we will survive this, together.

In the end, we will be the victors.

I will be your foundation when things are shaky. I will be your listening ear when you need to talk. I will be your strength when you are weak. I will hold you close when you need comfort. I will be your friend when you have no one to turn to. I will be your sanctuary when the pressure is too great. I will be your commander when you need direction. I will be your pointman when we face life's long roads. I will be your medic when the pain is too much to bear.

And I will be your burial detail when the time to mourn you comes. Until then, I shall remain everstrong for our love, and for our beautiful children whom I pray to Celestia never know this atrocity. 

But, remember, my unsung hero, that I will be your wife throughout it all. Sleep well, my beloved, and be at rest, for I will stay by your side through your darkest nightmares, and be with you through this difficult trial.







.                                                                                                                             Your loving wife,
.                                                                                                                               Star Struck