I suppose that is how they call it when a serious guy falls for a party loving whirlwind. John knew he was the sturdy but beige colored rock to her frivolous sea surf. She was achingly beautiful. And she drowned him with her passion.He loved it. He drank it up with giant gulps. He was like a lost traveler crawling in from a scourged desert.I guess he never entirely understood why she wanted him. Maybe she did neither. It must have been love. After all, when you can't explain a thing, why not call it love? Or art.They were so close those first years. They shared sweet and hard times. They found pleasure and fun in everything. Traveling, discovering.And making Julie.She was a godsend. More so because her birth was complicated. It never threatened her or Sarah's life. But it meant they should not have other children.Sarah got a hysterectomy while in hospital.Is loyalty a sign of true love? John thought so. If Sarah had to, he would too. So John shared her fate and had a vasectomy.He. I returned to the bed, slipping underneath the covers once again, and Megumi clutched me tightly. I held her close as well, recognizing that, for once, Christmas held a particular significance for me, for I was no longer a discarded kid in an orphanage – instead, for the first time in my life, I was someone who was truly loved and cherished and wanted. And, just as importantly, I had someone to love and cherish and want. …and I wanted to make this Christmas memorable for more than just spending the day in a hotel room. As Megumi slowly became more conscious, I began to caress her, kiss her, squeeze her. She said nothing with her mouth, instead allowing her eyes to speak what was in her heart. A contented sigh passed between her dainty lips, and she melted into me, completely at peace in my arms. ‘Merry Christmas,’ she finally whispered into my ear, punctuating it with a kiss to my cheek. ‘Merry Christmas, indeed,’ I replied, giving her a gentle squeeze. ‘I don’t know about you,.
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