"Saudade"

By chance I ran into a friend of hers several weeks back. As we spoke, it became abundantly clear to me that I had understated her circumstance (in my mind) to that of the minor ilk.

I hadn't (previously) known the motivation to intervene.

In speaking with her personally she hadn't revealed anything truly alarming to myself- I suppose minimizing the pain for my benefit?

She was like that you know?

Consistently energetic, known for verbosity yet intensely private and elusive.

Life's definition had been ripped from her heart leaving her feeling displaced and irrevocably harmed, defenseless.

She, like myself had lived as pirates...free and unconventionally.

It tugged at me...I wanted to help, chalked it up to poor timing, scheduling conflicts...

Not for lack of compassion.

I keenly understood what despair could do to a person- I had suffered with similarity in my own situation.

We didn't hold a transitory relationship; I believed her and I to be solid, we loved one another.

Never, not for a second, did I ever imagine that I'd be wearing my best black suit to see her again other than for a black tie event...

Yet this was just like her wasn't it?

Full of surprise, the unexpected came onto anyone within the vicinity of her person...made her laugh to think of it.

She was loyal to a fault, she was unconditional love in its purist sense.

In retrospect we all have our breaking point, hers simply came quietly in the night...

I thought

I thought that she could 'muddle' through...

This I recalled as I reached down to take hold of her hand...one last time.

She spoke of her desire to return home quite often, yet had nowhere to go; figuring that a backpack and a smile and she'd find it someday.

Off handily she'd speak of a song resonating, drenching shattered dreams to distraction.

Long ago she'd ceased mention of the nightmares.

She held doubt that in the sharing of the terror "held any merit, serving no purpose" she'd remark, drop the subject for discussion of the obscure.

Everyone wanted her to fight mightily, as she was prone to do...

The detractors, those who held unyielding adoration were all left unsettled by her lack of conviction.

But I had known.

One text received "I need help" had arrived.

In retrospect she had mentioned feeling lost, hurting.

It's what she no longer spoke of that should've had us all collectively disturbed.

The future.

Come to think of it, the generosity of speech had steadily declined.

Providence, Prevenient Grace; ideals that all waylaid just beyond the grasp of her capture...

She used to state that to have her dreams would be to live the nightmare...

This she could achieve with internal strength, not broken.

No one counts on being broken when their life's terror suddenly becomes a reality...

I didn't give a damn when the tears came to me, rushing freely past all of the emotional barriers that I held up to the world, I simply wanted to wake her...

Have a righteous dispute over her causing me this never ending grief, knowing full well that any argument with her would've been a day completely spent fighting for a word in edge wise.

I should've known better...

I did know...just didn't accept it.

She couldn't save herself, refused to quit. Resigned to death by his hands.

At that moment I hated her for allowing it.

I could not comprehend, despised her for the fragility.

She was a grown, mature woman with a child's heart who desperately required a father figure for the remainder of her life.

There could be no partnership, that ship had sailed far too often in her mind...

I visit the site often, mostly alone with my anger, fury over the mindless loss.

I allowed my life to supersede that of hers, someone that I truly loved.

"I could have stopped, prevented this" words that scream from the cold, unyielding dirt.

She wouldn't have afforded but a select few to take hold and seize her life, claim her heart and shield her from the world...

But regrettably I knew that I was one of these individuals.

Rare.

I had access, I certainly held the latitude with the propensity to alter the outcome...

The bias lie in my firm belief that I lived a life of content.

Merely content.

I had nothing to lose, everything to gain.

I was well aware of who she was, what she meant to this world- specifically her place in it.

She never had the choice

because I never offered a viable solution.

I miss her.

I believe that I always will...

============================================================

Death has a profound effect on us all, inparticularly when one passes during the holidays.

May you keep your friends in your heart, close in spirit and with the knowledge that you love them to carry them through...

From my hand to yours,

Sawyer

Saint Andrews

Mors ultima linea rerum est (death is everythings final limit)

The first book that I signed and eagerly handed away to was Bob. Bobby to some friends, so I have heard. I didn't have the pleasure of knowing him for very long, he was running out of time...

I listened alot, watched him with others. He was unique, a marvel in this sometimes bleak world of ours.

Bob made you laugh.

His past was chalk full of color.

Derived from any subject arose a hell of a story, as a writer I sat back and often thought "wow" how lucky am I to be hearing this?

Bob wasn't simply loved. He was adored, and I remark openly that there is a vast difference between the two.

Cantankerous he surely was, though even in this he amused and delighted with his wit.

My son believed him to be Bob Segar because he rode a motorcycle and held himself with such a demeanor as one would feel that larger than life presence- even to a 5 year old.

This made him laugh.

His best friend shared many stories of him and watching the two together was a wonder...

The sentences that didn't quite complete themselves before the laughter ensued.

The depth of caring that only the very best of friends know...

His wife counted everyday as a blessing and openly said so- to which he'd reply "yeah, me too" except his eyes danced when he said it, and he meant it.

He loved her with more than promise, with a true, open heart.

He pseudo daughter who lives next door would visit with him as time allowed- always making the time.

Funny thing about Bob.

He held full comprehension of time- its demise to friendships, family and the heart.

So he rushed towards the embrace of it all.

The call came in around 5 am.

You know the call that no one ever wants to hold to their ear

"It's Bob"

I watched as one by one family and friends raced against the clock to be there for Bob.

That rapidly turned into a rush to be there to say goodbye.

His daughter in law though devastated held his hand, warmed him- as he detested being cold. She raised his spirit and of those in the room by her words of conversation to him.

Bob would've smiled.

Probably laughed.

Bobs sister was angry. Life was leaving her beloved brother, and the unfairness of it all brought anger to the surface. She wanted to fight for him, just wake him up from the stasis. How dare he leave us all.

I understood.

I would've fought for a love like that as well we all would.

Bob would've been proud.

Bobs brother and cousin stoically held everyone up and connected with the gatherers.

They loved this man and between the tears and pain

laughed at the past revels.

Who else would laugh with you as you found your peace?

Only brothers, only shared hearts.

His sons were amazing.

They provided their step mother with respect, dignity

and their father?

A most brilliant release.

Their love was evident in the sorrow,

honest in their grief

and the depth of love which would be carried on through they two

Witnessing this

you just knew that Bobs heart wasn't going anywhere.

When the love of his life said her goodbyes

through the door the guttural sobbing took us all to that place where no one, and I mean no one ever desires to go to.

Love is funny that way

bringing us life one moment

than killing us in the next.

Bob lived his life to the fullest

he loved. No I mean it. HE LOVED.

We all looked on as the nurse proclaimed that he was gone.

I don't believe that anyone who knew him bought into that.

How could they?

Sure, his body had been relinquished to death

but his heart?

No way.

Hell no.

If anyone could get out of this one, surely it was this man.

He didn't believe in heaven per say, but what he did believe in was the here and now.

Here, he made a better place

Now, a saddened one.

But tomorrow?

I'm fairly certain that we'll all see him revel,

live on through everyone that he touched throughout his life, and of those there were many.

As we all began to leave the room, the consensus was unanimous.

We were all lucky, in different measure.

Some had years

some a few weeks

some a lifetime

but wasn't grand?

Wasn't it a grand life Bob?

Opus Dei

(The work of God)

Blessed are we to have shared your last breath.

from my hand to yours,

deeply saddened,

Sawyer

Saint Andrews

Dimitte Praeterita

Transitional life isn't for me...

I saw you long before you knelt

proclaiming the stay;

the way of it all

I stood corrected

stunned at the revelation

of you

To those in your extensive past

you were better served as a vague memory

To me

the strength provided

presented me with the future

one that would prove to be all encompassing

We ran straight into one another

fearlessly

Beauty radiates

not always where we'd expect

as I soon discovered

just after the rendition revealed itself

I'm often asked if I'd do it all again-

any regrets?

I've a few

however our pasts dictate who we become

to change that

alters the path

"Dimitte Praeterita"

Letting go, leaving things behind to forge ahead

learning

bruising

forgetting to believe

losing infinite hope

yet somehow persevering

%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%

Hopefully you've logged on to authorhouse.com and ordered your copy of the first book in the Pater Nostras series, The Garrison Effect. While the title had been switched (to Pater Nostras Canis Dirus) the first installment is well worth the read.

A great mind vacation...

Here's a clip from book two that may help enlighten you on the "why" in the title etc.

About the series:

"Pater Nostras Canis Dirus" or what is commonly referred to as "The Dire series" are a compilation of 10 novels.

Beginning with explanation of the title PNCD a latin reference to "our father (of) the Dire wolf".

This occurred by directive of my son Sage who desired definitive knowledge of werewolves, not the current lure resonating within the general population at large.

Hence birthed "The Garrison Effect", novel one.

This provided the first glimpse into the true origin of the (lycan) Dire as seen through Garrison Hastings eyes. We journey from the 1100's to present day, acquiring knowledge of all that it is Dire.

In the second installment, the novel "93 Kilometers to the better" we find the descendants of the original Dire realizing their destiny, thereby becoming wolf.

Old meets new.

The weave of this tale begets action in both Texas and amongst the Highlands of Scotland. Join us, quench your thirst for the knowledge...

feed your hunger with the tell, the unprecedented insight into the lives that had previously only existed in the shadows...

Learn what it is to be Dire...

Feel the exhilaration of immortality

the immense power...

Placed in their respective order:

"The Pater Nostras Canis Dirus" (The Dire wolf series)

"The Garrison Effect"

"93 Kilometers to the Better"

"The Dire"

"Cross Dominance"

"I am Tagon"

"Bristoll"

"The Mongrels"

"Rafeal Ab Initio" (From the beginning)

"Rafeal Ab Antiquo" (From the Ancient)

"Rafeal Ab Aeterno" (From the Eternal)

"Luce"

I hope that your holiday was wonderful and blessed!

From my hand to yours,

Sawyer

Saint Andrews

In harenarius somnii (In sandy dreams)

She did so follow the path of the green, pulsating light...
Thoughts of him abound, intoxicated by the banter of friends, living within the moment of eraser- the pain subsiding, even if for a glimmer...
Still, she could offer no resistance to what beckoned.
Not that she'd bother.
Box left unopened seemed a worthy task to enlighten, to seize on exploration.
Puddles not jumped into spread no water,
felt no disturbance.
Life is meant to spill...
To dampen
Of these things she held certainty.
He nudged her back into the present; even if he could not gain complete control, well then, he'd certainly attempt to do so.
Knowing her the way that he did, her mind would often travel where her body could not.
In this she was incredibly adept.
One aspires to this when life dictates an escape that has become insurmountable.
He watched as her eyes told the sorrow of the travel.
The other was to come, and come soon enough.
She tempted fate often, knew that it was simply the way of it.
Her path to seek.
Mightily he held onto her hand, placed her into bed for slumber, praying that this would not be the evening where she'd wake and leave suddenly.
But she knew...
Even then.

Come for her he would, and he'd crush anyone who would stand in his way.
All of her life she had felt his pressence;
realized his plight.
He had it all.
Possessed what others merely grasp for...
Early on he had lost it all to neglect, for self satisfaction.
He'd not repeat this error twice.
Once the recognition took place she'd no more walk away from the challenge than he.

Circumstance be damned.
What belonged to be set in place to erradicate his past would find itself placed before his feet and no one could possibly match his strength, will or determination.
It was what it was.

She shuddered.
The dreams plaguing her yet again...
The man next to her protectively wrapped his arms around her, urging time to hold still...
The last thing he desired was for the light to illuminate the room
seeing her tears of anguish was tearing him apart.
He too had lost plenty.
There was nothing that he wouldn't do to hold onto what had been promised to him.

He understood that her word held.
That she'd never betray.
The other would, this he felt was a given truth.
Unless he could remove her, bring her home...back to the solace of the mountains...
She'd take flight.
Whatever drove her
stirred beneath the fragility of emotions running throughout her body
would grip the sensibilities, the intellect
force the issue

At times he didn't believe that the other would arrive
indeed, he had read the dark scripts that she had penned
bore witness to the many oddities that consistantly surrounded her person.
He held doubts.
She loved him, this was his truth.
She'd not willingly go...
He'd never release her binds.
He had even taken the extreme measure of binding her at night to his person.
He felt regret for her discomfort, yet this act assured him of a complete nights sleep.

The other had been made aware of the situation.
He made it his business to know everything pertaining to her life.
It was a necessity.
In order to find her, to procure what he desired above all else this he had to do.
His life had imploded 7 years ago to the day.
By prayer, though some would remark dark prayer
he had begged for the latitude to break from the daily routine and pursue the life that had been stolen from him, via deaths demise.
Death, he scoffed, had ripped his one true love from his life all of those years ago.
Recollection angered him greatly.
This woman was wild, a child at heart and for all intense purposes had broken; fallen.
All that was required was the procurement.
Her theological background, deep set belief was all that it would take to enforce his will.
Not love, commitment would stand in his way. She would not defy one thing, her achilles heel, and this fact- coupled with his intent would serve him the life that he felt should be afforded to him.

She knew that he could trump words spoken.
That he could destroy all that was her in the name of possession...
She had been warned of his consumption since the tender age of 3.
But like a moth to a flame, pragmatic only on the surface
adrenilin junky
she lifted her gaze to match his...

Instant recognition would be all that it would take...

As he often did, her mate took notice.
He always took notice when other men intruded on their lives.
Never sure when the egotiscal bastard would begin the fight, he was most assuredly not going to allow it to become a struggle.
He'd insulate her from the rigors of the journey.
No wealth, even one of such a vast nature could dissuade him.
Realizing that she was a mere child by heart he too had plans...
For his stature was as great, as stoic as the others...
Monetary gain had little to do with her promise, her stay.
It had everything to do with Pandoras box and little to do with rebellion.
Their foundation was solid.
You cannot steal what is built on cemented dreams.
If anything the other man held only a foundation of sand.
Sandy dreams.
Unfullfilled passions.
Too bad for him he thought.

She was confused as to why they were relocating abroad, inate trust of her man brought her to stand by his side.
Going home was paramount for healing.
He had (and rightfully so) sequestered her to his solitude.
Granting her only limited access to the outside world.
She had fallen.
The darkness had swallowed her whole and it was he who held onto the precious light.

The other was not of this soil left behind.
Mistake number one had been made, as he had predicted.
He now would hold the upper hand.
With the distance between them now removed he could act.
All that she needed to see was the box, the untangible.

They had met once, briefly.

He knew, with immediate urgency that she was the answer.
Fear caused her to turn away.
Dare. Bold bravado would bring her back.
This was a fact.

Finding a suitable business deal, contacting her business partner he'd place himself in her direct path...
seizing upon the opportunity to dismiss the others.
He could and would offer her what no one else could.
Sanctuarie.
It was where they both belonged.
Certainly he could no longer live without her, not after having waited so very long to procure.

He began to relinquish his control, feeling secure living abroad now.
The language barrier, his constant fathering of her assured him a life long partner.
He would be quick to marry her, adorn his love with what she needed, desired.
He was no failure when it came to domestication.
The dreams had seemingly dissipated since their arrival...
Nothing would stand in his way.
Complacency had begun to relax his effort- though he never wavered on his love for her...
He was certainly demonstrative a plenty.

She too felt relaxed.
Perhaps he had been correct.
It was just a dream, and she did, afterall, love this man mightily.
They rarely fought.
He had accepted her past, resolved any misgivings.
He demanded only her attention and loyalty.
This was given readily.
Easy enough to be loyal to a caring and trustworthy man.

The meeting was set for 2 pm, one that she could care less for attending, but her signature was required.
Her partner had remarked that something had felt "off" to him, and warned her into caution.
Life was, afterall a chess game, and he was a tried player.

The meeting was held in a secure location, though she had not been here before, her spirit had.
This place was known.
Pride kept her from running.
Having read the scribes manuscripts the partner again advised not to remain any longer then necessary.
Once he entered, she knew.
She had been hunted; her greatest fear had been realized.
He waited patiently as the meeting reached its natural conclusion.
As planned, dismissed the others.
He looked over to her.
"So you know."
"I do."
"Well then, what are we to do?"
"Nothing. I'm leaving."
"No. No, you won't, not until you listen to my proposal..."

The partner, sensing that his friend was in grave danger alerted her man-who promptly raced to be by her side.
He found the room empty...

*************************************************************

Though life has been difficult as of late, I wanted to thank my friends for all of their support.
Hope that you are all checking out the first novel, even in its imperfection it's a great read.

From my hand to yours,

Sawyer
Saint Andrews

Ancora la (anchors)

When the pain bubbles up;

rises to the surface

so much so with such intensity that the anchor you once had begins to drag itself across the ocean floor

you find yourself engulfed

drowning in the choke of images rushing throughout your mind.

I found hate in the people that I had once entrusted with my life

dismissal

even possessing inherent knowledge of goodness and clearity, they couldn't stand with the strength that I knew that they did so bury within the daily grind of life.

I found myself caught between a war of love and hate;

when all I wanted was peace

release from the rigors of taking care of everyone else

a time

a few moments to just free fall back

But as I have always found

always

one standing order in my life

that no one affords this

Funny thing about strength;

most people cannot let go of it, even when it is not of their own making.

Like a thief they steal, fight, undermine just to feel it again.

For the brave however

it either burdens until a break

or it is fully embraced

I fall somewhere in the middle-not out of indecisiveness but because I am the exception.

The worst has already happened to me

I swam out into the middle

refusing to take sides

ever

I had to contemplate

realize an impossible dream

I do understand now that the only people who overcome the struggle are those who can ignore the hate

topple the word "no"

walk when it feels like the world wants you run

pushing you

pulling you back

Times like these

I ask why I have been devastated so?

And I realize that it is a necessity to begin a new venture.

When I hear the phrase "time will tell" even in its own pristine truth, one fact remains;

simple yet true

I am but a mere relfection of my heart and minds demeanor

I love mightily

I stay, I fight

but when I go...when I leave, I never return.

I reflect on the past...but that is all you'll ever know of me again...

I have this whole new life ahead of me

marred with a disturbance

a darkness

On the eve of such happiness

I'm tortured by the inability to seize the moment with bravado

all that I can offer is myself

my gift

past that, I'm just that little girl locked in the cellar trying to cope until help arrived

beyond the salvation craved

I couldn't find justice

so I created my own

did it right for everyone around me

I held stay;

strength

and

tonight

I fall

back into that darkness with little or no understanding from the beam of light

the flicker that provides hope

Previenent Grace...

I can't change those around me

only myself

I'm not a victim

not a survivor.

Just me, and right now that seems to be far too much trouble for the generals.

I phoned my captain.

Rang him with the news that I was headed for the open seas.

He didn't hear it in my voice, grasp the depth of my conviction.

But if anyone

and I mean anyone could bear the brunt of the storm

navigate the waters

it is the one with nothing to lose

My anchor, burdened with its own rust and decay

is metal of the truest beauty

for if there is one thing that I have learned sailing

is that no voyage should ever be taken on

with no ancora la to ground those who would venture

those who would seek home

in the fantastic

The day of embarkment arrives for us all

some purchase tickets to announce

some stow away

cower to the mass

others work to pay their way

but a select few...well they place their own hat on; their style, their passion and they steer...
they chart

they dare...

Tonight I see the cost

I weep as I did when I first realized that this was to be my life

regardless of where it would be lived

The only place of peace for a Saint is Sanctuaire.

The only Sanctuarie that exists that I know of is across the great waters...

The only way to cross

was to reveal my story...

Lift the anchor...
sail with bravado

The last few weeks have been incredible. Highs and lows that would have brought a weather man to tears. I want to take the time to thank everyone who had their hand in the project: Pater Nostras canis Dirus "The Garrison Effect" (found on authorhouse.com) especially Marshall Wayne who came in early with his fan website. We're emerging from the margin and without your support who would know???

Michael Turner who's friendship is invaluable, see you in Napa Valley.

John...well we compliment each others abilities, I admire your shoulder to shoulder attitude.

Sam for understanding that sometimes even the warrior has to relinquish some battles to win the war. Belief is key for life long love.

Doug...

You're home.

From my hand to yours,

Sawyer

Saint Andrews

The Norwegian

I stopped believing, and you would not believe that I could ever utter that remark if you knew me well enough.

I had internally though.

The Scandinavian saw to that. I bore witness to the distance in his eyes, all the while realizing that there was something compelling...

But, as you know, or should know, one cannot force another to open up and be free.

All we can do is politely ask.

When I walked into the room I didn't feel his eyes glancing in my direction. In fact, I didn't look around. I wasn't interested. I wanted a drink, I desired to speak with my friends and leave early.

That was the plan.

On the way there, it had occured to me that I was doing this right.

I held no expectations and I was free of the pain that had been burdening my shoulders.

I noticed him, 1 table over.

Completely not my type, not even close.

I smiled, and I saw the intensity of those baby blue eyes reflecting my sincerity in suprise

I attempted not to look

but I still did

and was caught

Still, I reminded myself that (again) he was not my type.

He walked by me

suddenly the realization that we were a match

chemically

what was I to make of that????

He came by the area where I was standing

I may have muttered out a brief hello

he asked if I'd like to go out sometime

I said yes

But I didn't mean it.

I planned on declining later.

He persisted.
I found that upon hearing that the reason he had asked me out was because he couldn't leave the establishment knowing that he'd never see me again-

a chance that he was not willing to take

I was not someone that he was able to lose

The Norwegian showed up with roses...

I wore little or no make up, deciding that he'd either like me or no'

told him exactly what I was dreaming of, as he revealed very much the same...

10 hours of reflection

that felt more to me like coming home than I had ever felt before

mostly

he wasn't afraid

to be bold

use bravado

without crass, or press in areas that should most definitely hold absolute respect

The Norwegian was a gentlemen

bound for love with no holds bar

he understood

that with love it really is all or nothing

when it's real

that we can take things slow

we can fight and wrestle our way all the way down

fighting because our pasts dictate a dilema

builds walls

The Scandenavian vascillated, believing that thee woman would come- instantly healing his heart

when the truth remains

that that comes from within

In the case of The Norwegian he chose

as did I

to for go all of the formalities

and not quite recklessly - but with a copious amount of abandon

with great risk comes great reward

and in our hearts

this is all we had to offer one another

He flew me to Rome

we married.

No one knew.

We invited no one.

Our moment was shared only by other tourist, villagers.

He took my face in his hands and promised that he'd never hurt me, that he'd love me forever.

Today, one year later,

he is home to me.

I could tell you emphatically how I came to love him so, or how/why he loves me. What purpose would that serve?

What I should remark to you is this:

Love isn't for the fearful.

It's not for the unforgiving.

It isn't meant to be over thought, contemplated.

It is to live. It is for our lives.

Had the Norwegian hesistated he would've lost me forever...

but he did the one thing that a lesser man would not have;

he turned to face me

with a strength that I had only written of.

Who could possibly ask for more?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Have a wonderful week!

The novel is in its publishing phase. It's been a long road, very exciting to begin to witness the fruition of such beloved labor.

John has been a wonderful friend throughout, Marshall placed a new website up to support the novel- and I thank him with such gratitude....Michael, as always what would I do without ya?

From my hand to yours,

Sawyer

Saint Andrews

Life Reclaimed

Not certain as to whether or not the downward spiral had been recognizable, noticable, but still I pressed further.

With nowhere to go but up I took Kevins advice and left.

Going abroad had been a wonderful, brilliant stroke of genius on his part.

As well I knew, he'd not be able to leave things as they were, and true to form he did not.

He flew in, one areocraft directly after mine.

I heard his voice above the others in the crowd. I thought, at first, that this could not be. But I did turn...

Call it eternal hope, faith that just perhaps life would finally serve me with the sancuarie that my soul so desperately craved...

He shouted- with all of his might yet another row.

There was no way, none, not in this lifetime that he'd allow theft of his hearts desire to slip away into the ancient city.

She had called him out regarding his fears- both present and buried.

Kevin was not a man who bore this well. Yes, he understood that her assessment was correct- but she had no' the right to delve into his pyche.

Too much to bear however, seeing her with another man

knowing the cardinal knowledge that he felt passionate enough to retain for himself he chose- no, demanded that he stand.

For the majority of his life he had, for the most part

played the game extraordinarily well

His genius brought him into circles that could easily be expounded upon

he'd seize on opportunity

drive projects, collegues into the vision retained by memory

sheer will

Yet he had turned... albeit far back in time

Leaving it all behind.

The monetary gain, the lifestyle, the fame.

For family, for love.

And for a time that had appeased his lifes well.

For a time.

Faced with the prospect of losing the one woman who had breeched the walls surrounding his sensibilities

he scoffed at the mere thought of failure

he raced through the crowded aeroport until he found a glimpse of her

She wasn't difficult to find

when in a crowd she didn't blend in didn't rush was often discovered awestruck at her surroundings

This aeroport held familiarity for Kevin

Realizing that her attention would be captivated- she'd be slowed down

He'd catch up

No pretense

no games

Capitulation at any cost.

She turned. Her heart nearly leapt out of her chest cavity...

So he had arrived, just behind her

His words were profound

he loved her soul

his eyes danced at the thought of her resting in his embrace

She dropped her baggage

doubled back

stopped short of his feet...

She glanced up, wondering what/if she should say a thing

He ended the quandry

"I know what has been troubling you, I am afterall the one who sent you here. I didn't want to be one of the people in your life who only eased their way to covet. I desire you. It's just that simple. Don't tell me that I'm too late. Don't. You know me. You've known who I am, what kind of man that I will be with you at my side. I need you to relinquish at this point- and I do understand how difficult that will be, but know this: I am perfectly able to take care of you. Marry me...love me for the rest of your life...let go of your past honey."

Kevin searched her eyes for the truth he so longed to hear.

Tears welled up in her eyes

"I'm so tired"

His hopes began to sink...

"I know but-"

"No Kevin. I'm tired of running...I just need to know- with clearity- that my trust will never be broken."

"You already know."

"Prove it."

"Give me twenty or so years will you?"

She smiled

"I will."

"I want to hear it."

"Hear what?"

"That you love me."

"You know that I do."

"It's not enough. Fess up."

Kevin wrapped his arms around her, leaned down and kissed her harshly. "I mean it little girl. I want to hear it."

"I do. I love you Kevin."

"Good to know sweetheart. Ready for an adventure?"

She grinned broadly "Happily so."

The pair, her hand enveloped in his, left the aeroport for the countryside. For Kevin, knowing her love proved to be fulfilling...more so than he could've possibly imagined.

He would never allow her to leave his side after this.

Never.

Kevin had lost far too much in this lifetime. Loves that had come and go, children who had grown-moved on with their own lives.

This was for him.

For once

for once upon a time (as it were) where he'd be the King master of his kingdom.

Life reclaimed was his to give to her.

Blessed week to you,

many thanks to everyone who worked towards the common goal of getting the novel "The Garrison Effect" into publishing.

Many thanks to you Captain for being there, when I had become submerged into the depths of the project.

Everyone requires a landline I'd suppose and you were just that.

To better daze.

From my hand to yours,

Sawyer

Saint Andrews

Here's hoping that your week was wonderful and full of excitement!

The Garrison Effect has gone into publishing, so please be patient and wait, like us, for its arrival.

In the mean time book 2 in the series is being edited and another project is coming to fruition.

Here's a lil story for you that happened recently...

(please don't e mail me and inquire about its origins, can't disclose, thanks)

He met up with her after the facade of the evening had reached its natural conclusion. He hadn't truly wanted to go on with the night, but after a considerable amount of persuading, Ethan chose to relinquish his night to her whim.

He recognized some of his friends amongst the crowd, offered his hello's, then settled in for a brief- albeit chosen conversation with her.

She was indeed quite petite. Ethan would remark to you that he adored petite women, what he'd not readily admit was the reason. It provided him with the assurence that he'd be the protector- the man to his woman.

She had obviously been reveling in alcohol far too much, her speech impaired, her stance wobbly at best.

At least she had set her drink down, finally.

The conversation wasn't remarkable, in fact somewhat obsolete in his mind...still the thought of what she had gone through to bring him here had him curious.

By demeanor it was evident that she found him very attractive. Ethan felt the same way, although he chose to keep his attraction to her vested. The last thing that he wanted or desired was an intoxicated house guest who'd not remember his name in the morning.

Besides, he still suffered from the loss of his long time love, Melinda.

Ethan wasn't about to hop into another relationship quite so soon and with little regard to his own healing process.

He stayed around as long as he could manage, he had after all, consumed a considerable amount of alcohol himself. Honestly? He required sleep, and much of it.

Eventually, though he had wanted to pursue her, he thought better of it and quietly excused himself.

Being gallant however, Ethan did assure himself of her safety, making certain that she'd find her way home with friends that he trusted a great deal.

They texted several times afterwards, on up to 3 am, where she rang him.

Annoyed, he blurted out that he wasn't thrilled with chatter at the late hour.

(Several weeks later)

Ethan had thought to contact her. He just didn't see the point. She hadn't really captured his interest, had in fact troubled him with her blatent disregard-which he took to represent a drama filled lifestyle.

And so, he did nothing.

It was during this time however where he took to reading her blog, her face book and whatever else came along his way. Suddenly she didn't seem to quite fit the profile that he had seen her in.

The light that had begun to shine was readily in great contrast.

She had apparently been quite the opposite of what Ethan had witnessed that evening, not to mention his own friends couldn't even begin to comprehend what he had been eluding to.

They knew her very well and knew her to be just the polar opposite of his description. Urged to attempt this once again, he reached for the cell phone and re establish contact. From his end he could hear her voice waver. She was uncertain as to his motives.

She was fearful that she'd say the wrong thing, hold his despisal, something that she clearly held disdain for.

It occured to Ethan that he had been dead wrong in this instance. He invited her out, attempting to rectify a wrong that had been done.

Ethan never took in account the storm that had been culminating above, nor did he pay any attention to the aged building that they had chosen to meet at.

By an hour into their second meeting, he was well aware that she was 'the one' and felt exhileration at having taken the chance to find out for himself what the future would bring...

The power failed, they laughed, chalking it up to a romantic storm...

The walls began to bleed water...he grew concerned but kept her occupied with his quick wit...

When they could no longer ignore the flooding, the wind damage, the untimely force to evacuate to the next floor above, Ethan had to admit to himself that perhaps, as this worsened he'd only have this one night...

This singular opportunity....

Well I must go, as a real storm has just blown into the pub where I write...

Great timing right?

Remember, it's never to late to extend yourself to the right person if in your heart you have lingering doubts. Life turns and twists us about.

It's up to us whether we shirk from what we know could be or stand tall and embrace it!

From my hand to yours,

Sawyer

Saint Andrews

CTP excerpt

Robert,

this is for you...you rush in always at the nick of time and I am always grateful.

Saturday I just thought, time to get myself on vacation. Time to really lift this off of my shoulders...

Dallas, end of September, a brutally rain-filled day

I had decided to speak to one of my friends from out of town. I had planned what I would reveal, carefully so.

Rarely detered I phoned. Excuses...seemingly endless ones. What the hell is the point in refering to yourself as my friend when you obviously only one are your own terms? I lit into his sensibilities.

I had become exhausted, over worked and needed to not only blow off steam but to finally reveal what was driving this insatiabe need to complete the latin text.

Still he'd have none of it.

I attended a rather posh event later that evening...internally feeling the effects of alcohol and extreme pressure. I shouted. I can laugh about it now...a close friend rushing in and wrapping his strong arms around me and at last fending off the others. I could breathe, if not momentarily.

We had a good talk, some laughs. He had to leave me to it however. In all honesty, because I don't carry on like that I should've been set aside.

I went on though...

Had several more, love that gin...I would suppose it's becoming a yearly event. I somewhere, became a wine drinker, and a slow one at that.

Back to the story...I drank. Drank some more and then added to that.

Don't fool yourself in counting the sheets to the wind. I was in the wind...

Robert came.

Interesting because only a select handful were aware of my desire to meet the man...although having said that I had written about him prior. It wasn't as though he wouldn't have seen it, or for that matter been made aware.

His swagger was evident as he waltzed in the through the grand entrance.

I held recognition with immediacy. I tell you this in complete truth: he appeared quite amazing to me.

Attractive, though I knew long ago his appearence would cause a stir in any circumstance.

His eyes were slightly darkened...perhaps the lighting?

In any case Robert approached me. I had to laugh, what was I to say to this man?

In my mind I cringed, had he read what I had written about him and was to voice his anger?

His temper was known.

His eyes danced, ah so he had been consuming some of the spirits...

Robert towered over me.

"Heard that you were looking for me?"

I smiled. Are you kidding me? (I thought) Who wouldn't have wanted to be in this seat at this very second?!

"I was."

"Well I'm here. You're here. Sawyer, that is your name correct?"

"Yes."

"I read it."

"Oh shit." ( I covered my mouth, horrified that I had swore in front of him)

He laughed quite a bit, acknowledging the fact that as much as he knew my language to be 'colorful' that I would be intimidated enough to blush in front of him, at my faults.

"It's fine. Let me ask you something...you were quite overt in your intent. I'm wondering with such brashness why you'd shirk the second I walked in here?"
"Who says I'm shirking? I'm only 5'0. I don't shirk. Blush some, perhaps..."

"I'll give you that Saint Andrews, but a shirk is a shirk honey."

"Are we going to debate shirks all night?"

He smirked. "It's not entirely a problem...of course (he placed both hands on either side of the leather bar stool that I was sitting on, leaned closely into my face) I really think that we should talk about why I'm here."

(Let me be truthful with you here...I wanted to run out of there...I really did. Two things prevented me. Shoes that I had no business wearing. Secondly I was intoxicated. I also wanted to hear him speak. His speech was intellectual and melodic.)

"Yes Robert?"

"No one refers to me as that and you know it. Why then?"
"Using your name that way, or writing?"
"Let's start with what you wrote. I wasn't asked first. You could've considered that I'd be somewhat peeved. cognitive bias doesn't provide you with license honey."

"So you're angry?"

"Annoyed."

"It was a nice piece though, you have to admit."

"IF I had wanted you to write it, I would've approached you."

"Rob, you're kind of leaning in on me..."

"This is a problem?"

"I'm becoming confused. Just sit down for a bit."

"No, I'm comforatable this way and for the record, I'm not angry at this particular moment. I'd like to know the real reason that you did it, and spare me the bullshit. I've researched you and I discovered the sub text, I know about Prevenient Grace, had your editor who you can hate later for the betrayal, send me over the maunscript. So what is it Sawyer?"
( I did wonder if I could hold back the tears)

"I did it for grace."

Robert stood up tall, completely towering over me, moving in even closer proximity.

"Mmmmm baby girl...this was all for Declan?"

"It was."

"Why didn't you simply ask?"

"You're married last time that I checked."

"Should've checked again then. I've been divorced for quite some time."

"Really?"

"Really. I have a room upstairs. I'm not enjoying this bar or its drama."

"What drama?"

"Sawyer, you did write-"

"Oh fine Robert. Forbid that you actually came in here with your own issue with preconceptions."

"Emotional baggage and it is what it is. Deal with it. Now take my hand, I am honestly done with speaking to you about it, the novel and anything else. You wrote in latin using cadence to set in motion the very circumstance that is transpiring. Let's go."

"I can't just- I mean, I'm not like that Rob..."

He really let loose a hearty bout of laughter "I'm not taking you to bed just yet. It was understood prescisely what you wanted. There's a justice of the peace upstairs. Have your church later. Trust in me. Have a little faith. You DID do this all on faith didn't you?"

"I did."

Robert held his hand out and took mine into his. I afforded him the latitude that he required as he led me throughout the magnificant hotel. Everyone was staring, were they seeing things or was this actually HIM? I grinned. Yeah it was him and he is legend, and somehow Prevenient Grace had prevailed...

I had given up all hope and yet here I was...

Here we were...

Faith and trust as our companions to guide us down a completely unknown path.

As in the novel, on grace alone, we'd not question, we'd relinquish.

It was time to turn the page.

Well I hope that you enjoyed this. Ctp is a really great project about Segar, and having a blast turning it into a reality. Its refreshing to do while working on other projects. Due out in October is "The Garrsion Effect" give me a hollah if you need any information.

Robert, to you I just wanted you to know that I do listen when you pull me back.

John just wanted to thank you again for being a great friend in the knick of time for me,

appreciated. Muah!

From my hand to yours,

Sawyer

Saint Andrews

I'm writing this during a storm...tastic!

Seth phoned, if not to simply recieve her input on a upcoming project that he had been working on. The conversation was seemingly light enough, although both were keenly aware of their previous relationship. Treading softly these days seemed to be the more prudent thing to do.
Seth didn't desire any further innuendos to transpire...
Yet as he spoke, he, once again allowed it to slip that he'd be back in town and would like to see her. She agreed- to her chagrin easily.
Both closed the phone swearing sternly that they'd not cross the line this time...
For her part he was so perfect in so many ways- yet he fell short on follow through, promises held and the most hurtful-he could not admit emotion. Oh she knew that he loved her, probably always would...but getting him to admit that had become difficult, and difficulty held no room in her life any longer.
For him, he was adored. This provided him with the daily feed that he required and could not get from his wife- although he had, without telling a soul, quielty dissolved the marriage.

They met in the usual place, Dallas, at a cafe. He had flown in from California, place of his birth. She noticed his demeanor had darkened, gently inquired as to why, he declined to discuss.
His heart was heavy, burdened.
She was on the verge of tears- her week had gone terrible, she had lost so much due to the storm...
They spoke of the work, clearly ignoring the fact that they were sitting entirely far too close...
He leaned in once to often and afforded his sense the scent of her.
His want grew, though he refrained from its mention.
She was losing control.
The conversation began to dull, yet he could not pull himself away. Finally he decided to give in to the lust and simply asked if she wanted to fly out of Dallas and over to Florida for a swim.
She laughed, not only did this not make sense but it seemed so out of character for him!
But he was serious.
She left with him, believing it to be a grand stand that would never take place.
On the flight he said nothing.
During the drive to the beach again, he said nothing.
They reached the waters edge and he demanded that she remove her clothing...
She wasn't certain as to whether or not she should comply or simply call him out on the erradic behavior- yet she had obliged him up until this point...hadn't she?
So she stripped, as did he, and he firmly led her into the water- no hesitation. Seth yanked her into his arms.
A breath away he remarked "I'm tired of this...you and I, the pretending that we do...I want you. I don't want to let you go. Marry me."
"You're already married."
"Divorced now. Been a few months."
"Why didn't you-"
"I really don't want to discuss it. Just say yes..."
She had no time to respond. He kissed her harshly on the mouth all the while pulling her beneath the waves. She couldn't have fought him off if she had tried.
Between the waters rage and his strange behavior fate had predetermined the outcome.
Drowned in her lovers arms.
Found on the beach a day and a half later.
No rhyme, no reason.
Seth hadn't meant for this to happen, she hadn't desired the passion to overwhelm so powerfully.
Their spirits had been lifted however to whole other consciousness. They had prevailed where the rest of the world viewed this as a tragic death.
Seth had his love and had brought her to the summerlands.
She smiled over at him, not truly understanding what had transpired, nor caring.
She felt the weight of the world lifted of her shoulders and afforded him the latitude to cast off any lingering doubts she may have been harboring.
He comprehended what had taken place.
She was happy, he'd naught disrupt this.

Enjoy your week! I'm working on several things at once so had to keep it brief...
From my hand to yours,
Sawyer
Saint Andrews

Her Darkest hour

He kept her on the line long enough to inform her that he had other plans for the evening. So, she thought, he had forgotten.
Ah well. Wouldn't be the first time this had happened.
As a close friend however, she couldn't believe that he didn't understand that beneath her words of non chalant dismissal lie pure unadulterated anguish.
She had traveled to seek his counsel.
The holiday was pleasing, still a mere guise.
Slumber had alluded for nearly three nights, intellectually she held grave concerns that she could not travel like this, nor continue...

As she lie on the beautiful bed, again troubled by the lack of sense from her friend
tears sprung to her eyes
flooding the pillow case
yet again
She dialed one who would feel the fall
but all he could offer was the usual;
what she had hear the whole of her life
be on your own
do it your own way
you're special, if anyone can- it's you...

But she recognized the symptoms, the feeling of darkness sweeping over her
the inevitable fall
she begged him to listen, to hear her words...she was truly in trouble...
he suggested rest.
If only she thought, knowing that wouldn't happen.
The best that she could hope for was a stay
a momentary break from the fall- a reprieve.

Through false smiles and great bravado, she escaped in a fury...
her friend phoned.
She afforded him his callousness. What was the point anyway?
He had not only forgotten her, but he hadn't realized the trouble that she was in.
He may have not known, may have been completely unaware.
She wasn't angry
dissipointed
or surprised
Merely thought that as he would expect her to do what he'd require
she'd accomplish this goal
leave him with all that he dreamed of
as she herself had allowed the drowning to simply engulf her

She couldn't breathe any longer
She attempted to voice this
to several
no one heard
Amazing, she had thought, as she tearfully drove home
that had he remembered her
he would have recognized the fall in an instant and never allowed it.
It was too late now though.
Never had she left him to his own devices...if she felt his slipping she stood by him shoulder to shoulder.

She'd not ask again, from either man.

The nightmares had returned...
The insomia took whatever remained.

She had chosen to remain silent.
By returning
it would be left behind.
They didn't care
and if they couldn't see, couldn't hear
she'd quietly break apart inside
hide it as always
and simply move on

Find home,
eventually
on her own terms

but alone
because at the end of the day
you really could never be a friend
if you refused to grasp her hand and lead her out of the shadows
when they came for her

How many more lifetimes would she run away?
How many chances had she left to her to find the courage to speak out-
only to be easily dismissed?
She feared none
didn't believe
refused to trust
and with everything she had
wanted to fall silent to them all

Funny that they'd never be aware

Until she was long gone.

And she would go.

As she watched the sun close for the day
to the wind she did so vow:
I need to go home now.
I will go, I'm not certain as to where this is, but if you'll find it in you to guide me...
I shall, once again run.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

I had loved her once upon a time, deeply so.
When she began letting me know, bit by bit, that she was hurting I attempted to ascertain the source of the pain.
I couldn't.
She will not discuss these things without prose, or in person.
This I could not do. Everytime that I am near her I wind up allowing my emotion to take hold.
I fall in love all over again, I cannot help but take her into my arms and provide comfort. I spent the better part of a year attempting to show her independence. What I never fully comprehended was her internal need to let go of this; because it had previously caused her nothing but isolation and considerable grief.
Yet here she was, turning to me.
The words were stricken with the darkest grief that I had ever witnessed by her.
I was at a loss.
She was a hell of a long way from home, although in truth I thought to drive to her-
that or phone a friend of hers that was nearby.
I refrained, didn't trust the man not to cause more harm than good.
I realized that she hadn't slept in weeks. She had said days,
but I knew better.
I witnessed those nigthmares for myself.
She only wrote to excersize the man haunting her...praying that somehow
by exposing his pressence
he'd dissipate
I doubted that that would ever happen.
She's turned on me.
Thinking that I didn't want to help, or at least bring her to the surface so she could gather air enough to survive this bout.
Having known her for as long as I have, it seems that she's able to manage
there must have been a trigger pulled.
I'm saddened knowing that she'll never love me again
after I left her to her own devices
she is one woman who will not ask
but she did
and I let her go
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

There was just so much going on during that time frame.
I feel a sense of pride in my friendships. I'm there for my friends, always.
I had no earthly idea that she was hurting so deeply, so badly.
I had completely forgotten about the personal holiday;
but in my defense, she was certainly not my girlfriend
or my responsibility

No, I'd not have let her leave had I realized what had transpired, not a chance.
Hell, had I been made aware I would've demanded that she cease the escape and wait for me to catch up to her.
I care, I really do- but without a clear understanding I am unable to act.
Women confound me.
They desire you to simply read their minds and rush to their rescue.
She stated that she wasn't angry
didn't tell me what was wrong
and left.

Tell me what exactly
was I to do with that information?

I went to sleep that night
feeling the weight on my chest
but to be frank with you
I have a copious amount of problems of my own.
If only she had explained.
I would have been there.
===========================================
Circumstance detained me.
I had no idea what was going on until I reached first light, two days later.
I was keenly aware of her secret
I had read the transcripts.
I personally questioned her.
There was a tremendous amount that she had vested that was about to be revealed.
I felt that there was a true possibilty that she'd run again if I didn't discover her intent.
And soon.
Packed my bags and I chose to seek her out.
The second that I saw her, I knew that it had gone much further then she would be willing to admit.
I held comprehension as to what was taking place.
She took one look at me and backed away from the door.
I refused to afford her flight. Grabbed her arm, took her upstairs to discuss.
She broke.
Couldn't speak the words. But I knew, had known all along.
It felt like I held her a lifetime. I refused to let her go, urging the tears to fall, find their release.
I bathed her, warmed her with blankets, held her the night long so that slumber wouldn't bring her to the nightmare
I blinded her eyes to the vision of the haunting...
By the morning, exhausted, I drove her to the airport.
Someone had to bring her home. I knew that her soul had been broken
I knew
just where she belonged...


Wow that was dark! Well aside of that, I wanted to thank everyone for all of the birthday wishes!
Hoping that you're week is exceptional, full of grace and hope for a brighter future.
Believe that your dreams will and can come true.
All that you have to do is imagine...

From my hand to yours,

Sawyer
Saint Andrews

Prose of the dark man

I took her on under the guise of friend.

I thought it best, as did the others not to alert her as to who I really was. Already defensive and hyper vigilant, Heather was unable to trust willingly. There seemed to be little choice. Decieve and quite possibly have her wall up her emotions completely (upon discovery) or be honest and know refusal from the go.

So I decieved. She didn't really seem to afford me much latitude in either case, something that I was unaccustomed to. Women tend to lean on me, fall for my charm, inheritantly trust.

Heather was different. Her walls, built to protect her heart I had assumed, were insurmountable.

Later, I was to discover it wasn't the case. She chose to protect others, not herself.

I had thought that perhaps this might be a plausable explanation, but it was quickly dismissed; my intellect refused to allow it.

I spoke to her of residing in my home for a time, I thought in doing so she'd enjoy some peace, a relative reprieve from the stresses of the external.

I held high hopes that by utilizing the isolation I could ascertain, and diagnose the problem, the darkness engulfing her.

The first few days Heather remained withdrawn, quiet. I spoke of my life, travels, family. Anything that I thought would bring her into conversation I made the attempt.

She merely nodded, smiled once in awhile. One thing noticed however, was the constant eye contact. Heather never wavered. Never.

We shared meals, watched a movie or two. She rarely uttered a word. By her closest friends I found that she was previously talkative, outgoing and carefree.

This

this was not the woman sitting on the couch across from me smiling sweetly.

When I gently inquired about her last relationship she glanced downward

remarking very quielty that he had desired another

but upon reflection, and bearing witness to the new love she had known relief.

Heather held no wish to be what she was not, or for that matter change who she was.

I felt elated that she would share what little information she did.

That particular evening I woke to a slight noise, only to bump into Heather directly across from my room. Her natural beauty swept me away. Her hair was damp, strewn on to her freckled shoulders.

I suddenly found myself abandoning the ethics that I had sworn to uphold.

Passion, in all of its intensity had drawn me past what I would have ever dreamt that it would.

I said nothing, I touched her waist, applied a bit of pressure. I had to let go. Let her get back to bed...

Had to place the memory of that white satin gown clinging to her body behind me.

I lie in bed wide awake...

Nights later we ran into one another again, only on this occassion I chose to linger.

I wanted her.

I wanted her badly. I also wanted to heal her heart.

The man in me simply wanted to take her for my own. What was happening between the two of us was surpassing reason.

Friday she woke screaming...I rushed into the guest bedroom, sat on the bed beside her and held her with all of my might...

she trembled, weeping softly. I asked her what had transpired and in desperation she admitted that she had been suffering from the severity of night terrors. The dark man had been continually haunting her.

I did what you'd expect. I explained that it wasn't real, that I was there for her, etc.

She pointed over my shoulder

He stood, arms crossed. Black shirt, piercing eyes of blue.

"Why hello Doc. I see we have something in common..."

This week has been full, alot of work so many revelations that brought me pause.

Looking forward to coming back to Dallas soon.

Enjoy your week,

From my hand to yours,

Sawyer

Saint Andrews

The 48 fall

We met on the deck of a relatively large cruising ship. She was bundled, nearly buried in several wool blankets. I smiled at her, thinking what we do sometimes to save a buck.

She nodded, understanding completely. I was a bit taken back when she politely offered to share the blankets with me-meaning that we'd have to spend a considerable amount of time on our 48 hour trip holding onto one another.

I may of hesitated, but quite frankly my resolve was lost in its entirety when I silently ascertained that I'd be with one hell of a natural beauty.

There are certainly worse ways to travel I thought.

The wind tried its damndest to dampen our spirits, but she just seemed to wave it off with a smile.

I waited for some time to pass before introducing myself, looking back, I had my arm around her long before we knew each other's names.

"I'm Jack."

"American, me too."

"Your name?"

She giggled. "Tommy"

"You're joking right?"

"No."

On through the night we spoke, this girl amazed me in conversation. Finally, when the stars began to shine brightly she fell asleep in my lap, I leaned against the railing- wondering how dumb luck had landed me here, in this moment.

Day two we shared crackers and a bottle of wine that she had snuck onto the ship. It actually tasted brilliant, hunger will do that to you, I supposed.

Fall on the seas has a bitter quality, yet somehow I felt considerably warmer holding onto this prescious cargo...

Tommy shared of herself her life story, bitter sweet in nature, though clearly she had risen above its torture. I found that I too, disclosed the most intamate of secrets.

I felt utterly compelled to do so, not knowing where this would lead-not caring either.

That day we walked around the ship, surveying the rough seas, people watching- speculating in a rather humorous nature. Amusing that she could place diologue in others as we stood at a distance entertaining one another.

Truthfully, I never wanted it to end. Sensing that the night was about to close in on us, and realizing that we'd have but this last evening to remain in such close proximaty I leaned into her to share a kiss.

Tommy pulled back "Surely you don't want to do this."

"No, I really do."

She grinned broadly "Then you'll promise to meet me the year next?"

"How can I possibly promise something like that?"

"I don't want a bad goodbye."

"I'm not going to hurt you Tommy."

"I'm already missing you and you haven't left the ship yet."

"If we agree to meet here next year, then you agree to marry me, right here on this bow- got it?"

She laughed at the absurdity but nodded in agreement and instead of knowing my kiss I found her kissing my lips.

Now let me say this. There are times when you simply just know what you know.

I felt that kiss across my body. I knew love from that moment on. I held onto her for the remainder of our time together, never wanting to ever see this to its natural conclusion.

I woke the next day to her having already disembarked and a letter left stuck in my jeans.

"Dear Jack.

That sounds dreadful. Let me start over.

Jack. What a time we had. What a gift to have met you, know your mind, feel your heart and hear your laughter. Of course I will be your wife, if not in our dreams. Who wouldn't dream of this?

Our 48 held more for me then the last of the 5 years that I have known. I will dream of seeing you every night, your strength guiding me as I falter, as I'm sure that I will. You are unique and in the possession of a beautiful soul. I'm not certain as to how anyone could fall in love so quickly, but I knew when you looked into my eyes that it was so.

I will return the year next, I hold promises that I make dear.

If I don't see you, well, then I will remember you in the kindest of order. You'll be the continual story of 'what if' what might have been.

Safe travels, great warmth in the cold, coolness to your skin when the sunbears down with unrelenting heat. Blessed love to your heart if we see each other never again.

Like a child to Christmas, I will believe, if not for the year.

In anticipation,

Tommy"

I smiled through my deepened sadness. Not really a romantic, more a pragmatic man I did not share in her belief. I thought well, this is it. Love found, love lost. I told myself that it didn't matter. It was just a long fall- falling in love, the season, the moment...the ship. It wasn't real.

(One year later)

I went. I booked the very same voyage. I purchased a ring...just in case. No, I didn't really believe that she'd be there, but to be brutally honest- my year had been one of pure misery. I missed her desperately. I honestly felt that I needed a therapist to relinquish the memory impressed upon me of her, of my Tommy.

My heart sank when she was no where to be found and believe you me, I searched.

I grabbed a blanket to warm me as I opened a beer and began drinking my sadness away. A man approached me, his face familiar to me, though I couldn't quite place it.

I glanced up, said hello.

He sat down beside me, a deep sense of worry and pain clouded his eyes.

"She's dying."

I didn't want to hear this. I turned away. Perhaps this man was crazy...

"Did you hear me? She's dying. Tommy couldn't get on the ship because her heart is failing at such a rapid rate that she'd not of made it. We're 48 hours away from her. I can't tell you what to do, or even ask, but her dying wish was to die in the arms of love. I'm her father, this I can surely provide, but my feeling is that she would prefer it be you Jack."

"I don't know what to say. We hardly knew each other."

"Perhaps, but that is a ring box sticking protruding from your pocket is it not?"

I clutched my shirt pocket in embaressment. "Yeah."

"Love has a do many a thing. From experience, most of it unconditional and unselfish-assuming it's real love. Was it real for you?"

"Yes."

"Then let her know that before she's gone to us forever."

48 hours later I found myself at the hospice, holding onto Tommy. I placed the ring on her finger, spoke the words through my tears, and loved her with the last breath that she'd ever take. I wanted to die right along beside her, this is my truth.

All of my dreams, hopes, died with her that fall day.

Subsequently her father and I would scatter her ashes in the sea, both claiming the mist as the reason our faces were soaked with water.

That was 10 years ago. I've since found love again, married. I have a son now, Tommy. He's 2 years old. Probably the most beautiful boy in the world.

I take the trip to Italy once a year, in memory of her, my lost love-though each year it becomes more of a joy, less hurt.

I'm able to see her in all the beauty that surrounds me, my family.

When I find myself saddened, brought down by lifes complexities I am gently reminded that within 48 hours a lifetime can occur

everything can and will change with a blink of an eye.

I have to close this for now. Time to tuck Tommy in.

Funny, he always seems to require so many blankets...

From my hand to yours,

Sawyer

Saint Andrews