Courage

I suppose I wish this were real because then I would be able to tell myself that it's all over now and I will never have to go back. Unfortunately it was a daydream, a moment of woken terror and I will be seeing it again and again until I can no longer bear the weight of it.
What is courage? We have been discussing it in literature, referencing the actions of Bertrande Guerre (formerly de Rols). I was fortunate enough to also have referenced Robert Frost for courage yet it is his poetry that brought me to me knees (figuratively speaking) this very morning.
As a class, our definition was bravery. So what was our definition of bravery? Courage. So we went on in our circles, tightening and winding until we were dazed, lost and thoroughly confused.
The Oxford Australian Integrated School File Dictionary and Thesaurus (compiled by Anne Knight) tells me that bravery is "having or showing courage". This gets me no where. The compilation of Anne Knight goes on to tell me that courage is "the ability to face danger or difficulty or pain even when you are afraid; bravery." That shows where we lost ourselves that little (okay, significantly large) bit. Even the dictionary that is supposed to educate us, although we may not use it in any SAC, test or particularly difficult class, has turned on itself.
Courage is bravery, bravery is courage. What is each if it is not the other?
I took the liberty of spending an hour or so with Mr Frost to discover the answer. I like to have answers. I like answers much more than questions. I would love to spend all my days being asked any question at all as long as I was able to provide the answer to it. Even if it were a sad answer, it would still be an answer and there is its beauty: My ability.
I was simply sitting and waiting in my own world of peace, quiet and insane injustice when I came upon him. It struck me as odd. I was the one to stumble upon Robert yet I never moved before then. It was just how it went in my mind. We held a pleasant conversation for some time, amicably arguing about words and the like. I often hold such arguments within myself and was quite pleased to have a companion on this day.
It was strange that we turned to the topic of courage. We were aware of ANZAC Day having just passed but I'm quite sure we were talking about something simple like the weather or how my hair looked in the light.
As was to be expected, we were traversing through a wood I had no recollection of but for my imagination. I recollect pausing at some point without realising until I noticed the two paths we were standing before and had been standing before for a good twenty minutes. I'm not which of us it was but one of our exclusive group of two asked with path it was to be.
I am embarrassed to to admit I must have run from the paths even knowing they were not real. Every step back was another year until I was aching and withered from my efforts to return to Robert. He was gentlemanly enough to offer his arm. How wonderful of him not to have turned from the sight of a choice to be made. How strong and tall and proud he looked!
I chose the latter path. I will not tell you were we went as that is something to be kept between Robert and I. I am glad I showed courage and bravery. I am glad I caught myself up in the confusing behaviours of the forest and went to where I am supposed to be. I am pained by what it cost.
Now I am fortunate enough to know that courage is not bravery, nor is it the ability to face danger, difficulty, pain when one is afraid. It is the choice we make; At the end of the day we can either do what is easy or what is right.

I still think I did what was right.
Amy.