Strange but true. Wielding a gun is so much easier than a pen. Especially if by doing so, you expose yourself for who you are. Don't get me wrong. I must say, I am determined to have a go at this, but only a foolish man would be unafraid. And I have been foolish, more than once, if I dare say so. As you too, shall know, if you continue to stay with me through this.

So, I say again, I do this with fear. And respect. Fear for myself and respect for all those who played their part in this. And for you, my reader, who has deigned to spare me your time and your attention, though the devil alone knows why. And what is it that I do? The one thing that I never dared to do with the one person who mattered, which brings me to this page of my life. And that is…to speak the truth.

So today, as I sit here and write this, I am going to be honest. Brutally even. Easy as it may be to render an impartial account of most of it, what I struggle with most are the sentiments. Sentiments! True, that word does rankle! The mere mention of such a word, even to my own self, would have been unthinkable in as short and maybe as few as two years ago! But I shall promise you, they will be chronicled, each one of them, with as much honesty and candor that can be expected of myself (when I am not being a gentleman that is, which I assure you, I am not).

If you might, perhaps, go one step further and grant me the benefit of doubt in addition to your time, I shall explain. For you see, I should think likewise; as to how a man like myself, hardened by experience and seasoned by a life of conflict and confrontation, could possibly indulge in such austere sentiments or supposedly harbor such impassioned beliefs. I assure you, being the man I am and knowing what I know, I would never, perhaps could never, educe such heights of propensity within myself, had it not been under circumstances, too compelling and withal too remarkable; for even I, sufficiently accustomed in conducting myself with the fairer sex and possessing adequate insight into the workings of their pretty minds, was rather permanently marked and now maybe, forever scarred, by all that was to happen on that one particular day. You feel I exaggerate? Pray, spare me a few moments of your time and I promise you shall see, what I, unfortunately, could not, not until it was too late.

Shall we, I dare say, start from the beginning then?

Oh yes. Rhett Butler. You know enough now, I should think, to understand him as well as I do. Young and restless? Daring and ruthless? I guess I would say you were not too far from the truth. He was, or should I say, I was, all that and more. I had to be, and you know why I had to be. And like every young man on the make, I have had my share of battles to fight and losses to bear. Rhett Butler, a man with a cause. The cause being of course, only myself and everything that I aspired to be and desired to possess. The world lay before me and I was not afraid to reach out and grab what I wanted. And grab I did with a vengeance. I won't bore you with the details but suffice it to say, there was never a need or a want that remained unattainable for Rhett Butler, until that one day. The day that fate decided that he needed to meet Scarlett O'Hara.

I still remember it like it happened only yesterday. I could go so far as to say, maybe even today. Assumably, just a while ago…perhaps even moments ago. Truth is, there is no forgetting events such as these, in one's life. No, nor measuring them, in the pitifully inadequate scales of time. Cathartic moments such as these, such as mine, like the ones I am endeavoring to recount to you, are frozen in relation to time and space in one's memory. And I speak, from personal experience, that such moments in time, such anamnesis that remain trapped in the convoluted labyrinths of the human consciousness, wield a power so cogent and resolute and define a change so complete and irreversible in their perpetuity that they forever elevate, reshape and redefine not just the human mind but more significantly… the heart. The case in question here, of course being my heart.

It is not easy for me, a man like myself, coarsened by life and hardened by reality to accept, what is usually, a simple and much anticipated reality for most men. Men have been falling in and out of love since mankind drew its first breath. However, mortal though I am, I liked to think myself invincible to the common vices that are so much a part of the word "love" and everything that it stood for. Love was not what I was made for, never was. And no, it was not open to debate. Not at that time. So now you see, why it is, that I look back on that day with a deep sense of disbelief and shock. It would not be too far fetched to say, that for all my carefully acquired confidence and wisdom over the years, I did not see it coming.

Oh yes. The day was like any other day in all the days of my scandalous life. I go by a lot of names and all of them none too savory. It never bothered me, and I doubt it ever will. And as expected, it did not bother me, when on that fine summer day, I found myself needing to remove my presence from the group of loyal confederate-would-be-heroes after a few choice words (all of them heated and all of them for my benefit, of course). I speak of that day. The very one, which started all of this and which I was destined to remember for as long as I lived. For, on that day, I did the one thing that I had never imagined I was capable of. On that day, I fell in love.

Even as I write this, thinking back on that day, the details are so clear. I don't even have to try, they spring to mind effortlessly. The colors so vibrant and bursting; the characters alive and vital, the dialogues, crisp and accurate. I can almost feel the gentle rustle of the summer breeze on my face as it sweeps through that swarming crowd of young and old alike at that barbecue; hear the laughter and music and see, yet again, the signs of a prosperity that now, can only be imagined in the best of history and its books. I can, if I so much as blink my eye, bring into sharp focus again, the slender curving balustrades and the tall arched doorways of the colossal plantation house, its graceful symmetry flowing with such flawless perfection. Like I said, some memories are meant forever. Among them, being one, of this woman I was destined to meet.

And yes, as you already very well know (which again, to my discredit, I did not at that time), she was no ordinary woman.

The incident at the library was just the beginning. Of course, you know all about it or some of it. I had known none of it myself or how it was meant to turn out, when I had started out that day with Frank Kennedy at my heels. A matter of business, that was all it had meant to be. Of course, she caught my eye. How would she not, with her charming airs and those green eyes that were hell bent on ensnaring every eligible male at that party in Twelve Oaks? She caught more than my eye, truth be told. She had my attention, all of it. A lot of it too, although, I must admit, despite my obvious attraction to her charms, she was just one among the plenty of attractive and beautiful women that crossed my path, almost on a daily basis. No, I am not being conceited. I promised you I'd be honest.

I came to know who she was later. I made a few discreet inquiries myself, not too hard, though that might have been the case, considering my status of being the town pariah and county rogue.

Scarlett O'Hara.

So, this was how it began. Yes, this part has been told and retold. What I would like, however, is tell you the parts that are rarely known, for there is plenty. And to also, perhaps if you are still interested, to tell you how it ended.