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