Crashing waves roared, swinging haymakers as breaths labored, fear and love comingled.
She was still the captain of her fate; she was contented to remain single.
When they are together, there is this crushing wall of expectancy.
She tries to banish the burden of friends and family; his firm hands steady a shivering body.
Its gelid, frothy, she prefers to abide shore side, but those warm hands pulled her closer and in his powerful arms, fears did subside.
To surrender now would mean a loss of identity.
Relegated to a name, a title, her existence and relevance tied to an existential validity.
He’s different. Almost hedonistic, crude, challenging divinity.
Yet in the image of God he was created,
to shake the pillars of her heart, he claims he is mandated.
He speaks of faith and lives it, speaks of love, and shows it,
hand on heart he’s broken her spirit.
To surrender now would mean he won her heart, and it isn’t a fair compromise.
This romance was making a fool of her logical side.
Love is supposed to be as she envisioned it; Idealistic.
The power of his embrace, the offer of safety, he saw her as his call to duty, even his words were mnemonic.
He had altered her heart in ways she never expected.
His love speaks its own language. Defiant, illogical, perhaps lethal like arsenic.
To leave mother and father.
To cleave, and to forsake all others.
Is he the one?
To surrender now would mean she believed in the magic of love, not the theology.
Two souls meant for each other is such a mythological fallacy.
Love is practical she argues, almost mathematical.
Love is patient and kind, he counters; she feels heretical.
Play for time, allow the Fates to decide.
There is no need to step aboard this train, love is not supposed to be a wild ride.
Wedding bells and a family, illusory, intoxicating.
The waiting game is safer and more to her liking.
Control the fates, all her ducks in a row.
There is no going with the flow, this is for life, she prefers to know.
He surrenders now, he isn’t deterred.
His love is not easily provoked, doesn’t boast, he puts her first.
Let’s wait. She places it all on him.
A lover’s cross is easiest to bear he claims, but she knows that her indecision drives him insane.
Her sleep is restful, for the first time no fear.
She had so many caveats, self-imposed red flags, yet no cries of despair.
Her carefully built walls were crumbling,
He had taken up residence in her heart, their beats coexisting.
He’s in God’s mold, she understands it now.
She’ll be saying yes by this time next year and taking her vows.
Nigel Byng is a freelance writer living in the USA. He recently contributed to Happiness in Unexpected Places; an anthology of stories compiled by authors and media professionals from across the globe. His writing can be found on Signs of the Times Australia; MasticadoresIndia, Hotel Masticadores, and or on his personal blog HELPING YOU TO SUCCEED where he displays his love of fiction and poetry under his pen name, Jerome Kenrick.