I remember when she first understood the expression, you've got to choose your battles. Her mom said it to her talking about her little brother, who wanted to watch something on TV or eat something he probably shouldn't. Mom could've put up a fight or let him have what he wanted. She thought about that: Choose. A cute innocent smile was left: you can't have everything. You will lose something to gain. She was about to make one of these choices.

There are choices that I'll always remember making and other people making. How they've come to alter our realities. Without regret I'll look back and think that one, oh, there. When I did that or this. The battles that I chose and the ones I let work themselves out. The ones I ignored. And the ones that defeated me. The ones I won.

There are no winners in war. That's what I think when I hear someone on the radio say that we are trying to figure out a way to still win this war, a culmination of battles. When we put down our guns and finally walk away will we come out on top? Will anyone? The are those that are left. The winners are those that didn't have to see it all the way through. Those that bowed out early or were killed. Those we might consider losers.