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

Her tell

There were times when I'd sit and watch her write for hours upon hours, wondering when, if ever

she'd take pause

if not to simply live a little bit

yet she continued

I gently inquired

as to why

uncertain the answer wouldn't devastate

knowing that unlike most

she'd reveal

It harmed

I fell

because it wasn't a story

it was a tell

her tell

Of the love that she longed for

years of longing

for the everything that I could not provide

not monatarily mind you

time

time that I refused

promises that had been left unfulfilled

I read

after she had fallen asleep

next to the computer

slaying words

things that I never wanted to believe

of myself

I read

elated to hear the words

that had eluded me for what seemed to be eternity

I had decidedly given up

ceased praying for what heaven denied me

knowingly

for I felt un deserved

of a love such as hers

I happened upon the prose

in one incredible moment

I felt transformed

she had found me

at last

I was left with the search

which took me from Germany

to the US

worth the travel

the time

I met her

purely by chance

amazed, I promised myself that I'd never let her go

Now I wasn't certain as to how I'd keep this promise

but

I didn't come here to lose

I came to provide my time

my promise

Elated

to have been found

she tearfully cried

confided that she had felt lost...

torn apart by duty,responsibilty

and a wanderlust for life

I spoke of my home

wondering if she too

longed for the warmth of hearth

exhilarated

when she afforded me this gift to her

saddened

hearing her goodbyes

to all that she knew

By the warmth of the fires blaze

she began to write

it's who she is afterall

the words filled me with joy

she loved

me

******

This week was incredibly tough, taxing. The work this week swamped and though I love it, at times it feels that there isn't enough time in the day to accomplish the copious amount of tasks.

I'm looking forward to its completion, subsequent release.

I wanted to thank the latest responses flooding through the mail, always a welcome surprise.

Well once again, I must return to the work that I hold in such adoration.

Hope you enjoyed the prose. I always like the bitter sweet...

Bless your week and those that you hold dear.

From my hand to yours,

Sawyer

Saint Andrews

Shepherd

A thousand kinds of hurt

watching you cry

weep

held my stay

til I could bear no more

Despite what they say

what I had known (that day, when I had placed my hand onto your heart)

the truth that I had openly dismissed

simply didn't match my intent

honestly

I've no regrets

leaving you behind

though a deep sadness burdens

weighs upon my shoulders

how could it not?

I loved your heart;

the smile that radiated beauty from within

I reluctantly had to admit

that I could never provide what you required most from me

you fought back

as I knew that you would

'tis your nature

warrior that you are

never a quitter made

from the cloth of the Irish

Your voice held the strength of a lion

all of the while

your heart shattered in my hands

A thousand kinds of hurt

knowing those tears were for me

One day you'll happen upon it

a better man

a loving, true heart

one who will steal you away

from this haunting past of yours

Paper machette hearts aren't for you

words with no action

remain meaningless

that which would serve no purpose

eventually falls away

privately, I expedited the process,

desiring to spare your heart any further grief

You never knew

how difficult it was

to remain in the shadows

helping

when I myself loved you

wanting

desiring

all along

Yet I knew

realized

that this was not my life

it was yours

and because of the love that I held in stay

the hurt that I had inflicted

I stood

turned around

and directed you through circumstance

To he

the Shepherd

and it is in he

that you shall be truly free

forgetting all that was us

He'll take your hand,

you his name

I will know a thousand kinds of hurt

in this however

I can live

knowing that you are loved

in a way

that I could not.

Be incredible, live your life to its fullest. Know what you know

and celebrate loved ones.

From my hand to yours,

Sawyer

Saint Andrews