We are the lucky ones
How do I ever survive when he is not here?
As I lay in Mikko's gently strong arms this morning, wrapped in his love and kissed by the breeze that swept through the gossamer wings on our opened french doors, I wondered this.
I have no answer.
I only know that we are lucky. I am lucky. I am never as complete as when he is here holding me.
I think too of Susanna, whom I love so dearly. I do not even know where she has gone in her attempt to heal, to be ok. She loves Ville so, yet their love is not the love that Linde and I share. It is their own brand of love, born of heaven and hell and probably from more of the latter. Fire and ice do not always last. I suppose I wish for her and for everyone the life and love that I have with my Mikko, because to me, it is life and it is love. He is the air I breathe, the beating of my heart, the gentle wind on my skin and the fire that burns inside me. There is nothing else.
I am lucky.
Susa, if you are reading this, I love you and I am here. Please call.
As I lay in Mikko's gently strong arms this morning, wrapped in his love and kissed by the breeze that swept through the gossamer wings on our opened french doors, I wondered this.
I have no answer.
I only know that we are lucky. I am lucky. I am never as complete as when he is here holding me.
I think too of Susanna, whom I love so dearly. I do not even know where she has gone in her attempt to heal, to be ok. She loves Ville so, yet their love is not the love that Linde and I share. It is their own brand of love, born of heaven and hell and probably from more of the latter. Fire and ice do not always last. I suppose I wish for her and for everyone the life and love that I have with my Mikko, because to me, it is life and it is love. He is the air I breathe, the beating of my heart, the gentle wind on my skin and the fire that burns inside me. There is nothing else.
I am lucky.
Susa, if you are reading this, I love you and I am here. Please call.