Everything is the War. The conflict between Israel and Palestine is a result of World War Two, the catalyst for which was the pointless conflict of World War One. The TV shows I watch, the music I listen to, even the train station I go home through: all things are steeped in the history of the War. This semester, I have encountered the War so many times in my daily life that I find it both comedic and deeply troubling. My cousin talked about All Quiet on the Western Front at Thanksgiving. I’ve even encountered the War in questions for an exam outside of this course.

The War, according to my therapist, is one of the two things I’ve encountered this year that has destroyed my innocence. I had no idea that this much death and destruction was around me constantly. I had no true understanding of the pain and fear that comes from war. I felt pity for those in conflicts around the world today, but I could not truly emphasize with them until this class. I now know that evil, pain, and suffering control our world far more than I thought.

The question, now, is how do I live with this understanding? This semester, I’ve slowly disintegrated into avoidance and panic, leading to my lack of participation in the blog. I’ve cried. I’ve had nightmares. I’ve ranted to my therapist, to my mother, to my roommates; my friends are careful to warn me before loud noises that might resemble the sounds of shelling. I want to crawl into bed with a warm, fuzzy blanket and forget that the War ever happened.

I don’t think it’s possible for me to forget. Even if it was, it isn’t right. Instead, I should channel this despair into activism. I have no idea how, but when the opportunity arises, I know now that I will do what I can. I encourage you all to do the same. In the meantime, if you need me, I’ll be out by the trees, thinking about Kemmerich’s boots.