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   Having previously stated the obvious many times, the obvious being that I'm am an emotional trainwreck who majors in deep contemplations and neuroses, it should come to no surprise to any of you that I am deeply saddened by the events of yesterday and I feel as if my world was shaken off its axis.    Having said that, I realize that I could wax on about my own mortality, my current existential crisis or many of the other topics that are indications of a inner conflict, self-awareness, and too much time on my hands since finals are over. I could talk about my own stress of finals and my life, going back to texas, blah blah. But its times like these that I realize my personal thoughts that I feel compelled to share with the world (which for the most part doesn't give a damn) are really just too much self analyzation and self pity. While I do want to touch on the affects of Brynn's death on my mental state and how its changed my thinking on a few things, I mainly want to think about that sweet boy I will never forget.    I couldn't sleep last night. After I found out about Brynn's death, I just couldn't seem to focus. I talked to one of my dearest friends last night and while I tried to keep up with her, the world seemed to have lost a little color. I don't know why I'm taking this so hard to tell you the truth. I didn't know Brynn that well and I wonder if he remembered me more than just one of those names and faces you know but don't really associate with anything. It's just that I keep thinking about how his mother is today, the mother that was counting on her baby boy being home in four days, the one that was buying him christmas presents and planning a holiday trip for the family because he had been in Iraq for 15 months. I keep wondering how she will ever be able to face another christmas, if brynn's brother and sister will ever be able to look at christmas with the same rosy glow. If they will ever be able to look at anything with the same rosy glow.    I keep thinking about the soldiers that had to watch their friend die in front of them. I know they were friends because Brynn was just the type of guy you had to be friends with. I think about the town of Shallowater, where I grew up, and even though Brynn left their five or six years ago, how the whole town bands together and that each on of them is taking this personally. I thank God for small towns and the people that inhabit them while I run as far as I can from them.    In truth, these thoughts did not hit me until I was getting all my laundry together. I've let my laundry go during finals and I was trying to pick out what I needed to take. It wasn't until I realized that I needed a dress for a wedding and a dress for a funeral that it hit me that one of the great tragedies of life had occurred and my main concern was a prof who hadn't gotten back to me and my laundry.    I don't know what that says about me that I can be so casual about a war. About all of us. I can support the war in Iraq, I can know that our cause is worthy and I can listen to all sides without blinking. But can you really know what war is like if you don't see a mother cry for her lost son, or see the actual fighting? This boy, this incredible, incredible, incredible boy saved my life today. He saved my freedom.    For 15 months he's been in hell so that I can go to class, so I can eat out, and drink with my friends. I didn't ever give him a thought beyond, wow, brynn's in Iraq? How interesting. And what hurts me is that I know that I should thank God everyday for what they're doing. I should do more for these strong men and women. Its not enough to have a stupid yellow ribbon on the back of the car or to thank a veteran when you see one at the airport. How can I debate the merits of Iraq, support it, and still do nothing more than arguing with some liberal? How could I ever have been so casual about the ultimate sacrifice?    Brynn Naylor had the sweetest smile I've ever seen. It wasn't just that he lit up the room with it, it was like with his happiness, he could sooth the people around them. Looking back on someone I haven't thought about in so long, I remember the way he smelled and that smile. The sound of his voice, the twang and trill of it.    I try to imagine that gentle boy I knew so long ago in a war zone, and my heart hurts. There is no other way to put it, my heart hurts. I try to tell myself that he was a hero, that his life and death meant something. That what this country is doing is just.    Today, though, none of that means anything. Today's about remembering a man that was full of potential and promise. That man was a patriot in a world where patriotism has gone out of style or is a presidential buzzword. He was more than a soundbite or a symbol. He was more than someone's son or someone's friend. He was a guardian, he was a savior, he is my hero.