Frankly my dear, I don't give a damn!

A friend said to me once, we are all never truly innocent in a war. It's true. When the gloves are off, sides are taken. Things are said whether meant in all sincerity or pondered on with regret later. When I fight, I do it intensely, because my feelings burn, fusing and exploding like nova. I am a passionate person. This is why I hate conflict, I hate the battle that is waged between good people, more importantly between friends.

There always comes a time when my friends and I will disagree. I am always adamant about my convictions, believing that I did the best I could and my intention were good. However intentions have been misread in history. So much so that these misinterpretations, misconceptions or whatever misses would like to stick her nose in, turns the simplest and honest intention into acts of war! I have been in those trenches, wandering, what I am fighting for and questioning the convictions I stand by and whether it is worth the heartache that ensues.

There is the no-man's land that lies between us. Always. Whether it be friends, family, common goals and interest. It will be this that will help us put our weapons down and walk unarmed towards the white flag, leaving those convictions behind because they have no place where hearts and sisters meet. Sometimes I apologise, other times they do. Then there are the moment when neither of us offer any such words but laugh at the foolishness that got us to this remorseful moment. Then everything is back to normal. It is the way it has been, it is the way it is and I have always believed that this rights of passage will continue. Here lies the test of love.

That's why when she did it, I was stunned. We throw punches, we come out bruised but we laugh. We do not end thing, especially not after the first brawl, which is more like an initiation into the sisterhood. It was quite strange because that day. The day it all went wrong. I had been thinking of her, planning a surprise trip once I saved up. She'd be Thelma, I'd be Louise and I'd let her know that despite all her bad moments, we were making good ones right there. It never occurred to me that this would be just a pipe dream. As I see it now it's like a shredded photograph scattered around. Each piece representing a moment and it was like that day the final piece came together and instead of this premonition of good things to come, what I was given was a nightmare.

But I see her now, so very Scarlet O'hara in her demeanour. She chose her path. She chose to walk away from three years of trust, loyalty, understanding and connection. She chose to play the victim card, the grieving widow that she performed beyond expectation. I refused to role of the devil's advocate. It could have been such a laugh in hindsight I think.

As the curtains fall, I shed no tear and neither will I, because the door was closed not by me but by her. I rest assured that I was a good friend perhaps not an innocent protagonist. However If it is means nothing to her then... 'Frankly my dear, I don't give a damn!'

it is hard to say those three words. I'll admit, i'm almost never there. Moral superiority you say? not quite. I am just afraid that you won't say it too.