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