Just me, myself, and my thoughts

Driving around, it's been three years since I got out of Vietnam. I'm starting to remember everything that's happened, playing checkers with Dobbins, Kiowa..I'm just driving around with these memories inside my brain. I have nobody to talk to about them, my father only cares about his precious medals that his son achieved. I shouldn't have gotten those medals. Is it bravery that got me the medals or the fact I was in the war for so long. I could honestly care less for the medals. That was his thing, the whole time I was in Vietnam. These memories are crashing into me like a car crash. I can just picture if I talked about it to Sally Kramer. She wouldn't get it. Nobody seems to. I could have saved Kiowa, if i was so brave to earn those medals, why didn't I get through the terrible smell to save him? These questions are coming back at me, racking through my brain. I wish I had someone to talk to about this. It's so lonely, so empty. Just driving around the lake with the memories, of what could have been.