You went to war, you went to war to fight the injustice and hate in the world. You went to war because you, yourself had been persecuted and penalised to the hight of society's standards. So you went to war.
I remeber the day you went, a cold, crisp autumn morning where the leaves floated to the ground in perfect harmony. You stood there clad in battle gear as if you were born for battle. You hugged me goodbye as I held back tears. All our friends stood in the background as you hugged away my fears.
Looking back it seemed strange that I never realised you were at war before you left. The weird always happened to you, your best friend was a testament to that. Yet I never realised.
So as you turned to leave i blew you a kiss and you smiled at me, the girl you barely knew but loved anyway.
Then you left.
You kept in contact through letters and the occasional call but I felt your presence lessen, your friends did too. I thought that you had moved on, as painful as the thought felt I was grateful that maybe, just maybe you had found happiness.
Then you turned up at my door.
I thought that you were here to stay and it seemed so did you because you swapped your doubt for confidence and frowns for smiles. We were so happy and you loved me just like i loved you. Fully and completely.
Then you went back to war and when you came back you were different yet again, you were angry and scared and confused.
You didn't love me like you did once, now you pushed me away.
You fought the war two more times before you stopped coming home. The last time you were still fighting.
I don't know what happened to you amongst the battlefield but I do know that when a good man went to war he never came back.