Laying Down the White Flag

So as I told you in my last post, it's been a really hard fight ever since I went THREE WEEKS. It was such a huge victory that wasn't nearly as hard as I expected it to be. It felt so normal... then I fell back into it and this feels so normal- pulling all the time. :(

After a gruesome battle, when one side decides they can't bear to lose any more men, someone searches for white fabric: a shirt or piece of a tent or anything they can find that will be seen by the enemy. It just isn't worth the fight at this point... The man raises it up high after attaching it to the end of anything long he could find: a sword, gun, long rod, anything! From across the expanse of dead bodies scattered over the field, even flopped onto each other, the enemy sees the white fabric waving across the bleak gray sky. "Yes, we have won!" 

Defeated, the remaining men wander through their comrades' dead bodies over to settle with the enemy- the very men they swore to defeat and protect themselves and their loved ones from. They have lost all hope and see no way out of this dire predicament. As much as they fought, it seems all their efforts were in vain. Despite all the encouragement and any help sent to the battlefield, it seems pointless against such a powerful enemy.

Then one of the men suddenly stops and looks at the others. The rest of the them look back to see what happened and see a changed man. His face has transformed from defeat and despair to hope and determination. Puzzled they watch as he picks up a weapon and stares into the enemies' land with a stern look.  

The enemy is approaching with pleased expressions and a relaxed stride. That is, until they notice all the men facing this one man... they follow their gaze and find a revived foe before them. As he advances toward the enemy, the others are catching his infectious determination and hope. The flag bearer, who already lowered the makeshift white flag to the ground to rest his arms while watching all of this unfold, purposefully raises it up, with a great whirl turns it horizontal, and finally kneels down as he lowers it to the ground emphatically.

After such a show, the enemies' jaws drop and their expressions sour while the other men strengthen their resolve, follow the brave man's lead, pick up weapons, and advance towards the enemy. At this point, they recall the mission- why they began this fight at all. They were sick of being slaves; they were done with having these men rule over them; they ARE through with allowing themselves and their loved ones to be abused and destroyed. Down with the enemy at all costs! It is worth it!

Well, that gives you a metaphorical idea of what happened to me today. I have thrown down the white flag and resumed the fight! I'm not saying that Trich is conquered or anything. Seriously, I'm a battered soldier, but I have remembered my call and am determined to fight this enemy with all I've got.