The Fog of War

Bancroft is a small little town that sits in the heart of West Virginia. It sits right on the Kanawha River in the shadow of John Amos power plant. I learned a lot from this little town, as I was elementary school kid. One lesson I learned was something I call the "Fog of War."


We tend to always see ourselves or place ourselves into social hierarchies. We like to try and keep up with the Jones's. Well..., forget them! Make yourself happy.

I had a ton of friends living in Bancroft. I had some very close friends that to this day I consider relatives. We had a little club, as kids seemed to do back then. The problem with friends is we are always trying to impress or one up them. Granted when one of us got a new anything it meant the other was going to have fun with it too.

I had a crush on a girl (sad that I have to state it was a girl), and she hung around us from time to time. She lived on the hill (more like mountain ridge) and was not down in town every day, but often enough that she was considered part of the club. My best friend had two older sisters and this girl was one of those sisters’ friends. For years we all "played" together. When we started approaching our teens, things became a little more complicated. This person likes that person, she likes him, I like her and WAIT A MINUTE, this is a different kind of like! It was as if we went to bed (our own separate beds at our houses) friends and woke up as couples!

Now I go back to the social crap. I liked this girl and she liked me and it was well known. The problem is if I date her how is it going to look? Well as guys tend to do I began to make fun of her and say some things that were hateful, errrr more like hurtful! I was always taught the golden rule and followed it, yet for some reason this instance I just could not get past hurting her to avoid my social destruction, well imagined social destruction. The "Fog of War" tends to have us do things we often would not do. I moved away shortly after this and never got the chance to apologize.

I carried the regret to my new place and swore to myself never to do that again. I forgave myself in hopes that she had forgiven me. I never again allowed a social status to dictate who I would date or possibly date. Yes, oh my goodness can't believe I am about to say this, love is a battlefield, and I hope everyone keeps looking through the Fog to find their true love.