Pain and loss

A close friend of mine is getting divorced. He told me about it on Christmas Eve last year, but I haven't been able to write about it.

His loss hits me particularly hard because he was my best man at my wedding in Korea back in 2005, while his wife was one of my wife's bridesmaids. He was the one who persuaded me back in 2007 to join the Army with him, and was in six weeks ahead of me in Officer Candidate School.

On top of that, his family was kind enough to let my wife and son stay with them for two months in early 2009 while I did my BOLC II training. He was one of the top reasons why I looked forward to coming to Korea, and one of the biggest reasons why I was disappointed to hear I would be an hour and a half away in Pyeongtaek.

When my wife's father passed away in early December, he was there, and then his father passed away, I went there, too. He's one of my best friends, and – to be honest – I don't have that many.

So the news of his divorce struck me as a surprise. I didn't know his marriage was in such bad shape, though I knew that he was having a crisis of faith since his return from Afghanistan.

I can't help but feel guilty – should I have been able to help him better? My wife tells me no, that there were issues there even before we'd come to Korea, but I can't shake it. I feel like I owe him so much more than the kindness he's shown to me over the years.

Maybe his situation affects me even more because of my own experiences as a child. I think the most painful moment was when he told me his son said to him "I wish we could go back to the way it was."

If he chooses to stay in the Army, he'll have to leave Korea and his kids behind. If he chooses to stay in Korea, he'll have to leave the Army. It's a fact of life there is no getting around – the Army will not let you stay in one place forever.

If I knew of a way to end this story with something uplifting, I would, but even six months after the fact I still haven't been able to come to terms with his pain and loss.