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I want to apologize all of You - all wonderful girls - who showed an interest to me (writing a letter or sending a kiss 😃) that I can't reply to each of You. It is physically impossible to me - so many messages.. and so little time. I'm afraid that I don't deserve for such many, nice letters and for Your smiles, but I thank all of You very much!
I'm a sensitive person (maybe to much, maybe some will say that it is a weakness) but not naive, so please, if some of You play some sick game, is a girl-scam or gold-digger, be HONEST with me and stop that! But if You have good intentions You gained my trust already and I thank You for that. Honesty is the most important thing for start to begin every serious relationship. So let's respect ourselves.
I wrote all of this above to be clear, that I'm not a stupid person and I can recognize sooner or later this kind of girl.
Short description of my girl - well, I try 😉 I pass the outer look, because all of You girls are ideal to me, so will concentrate on inner side 😉 Like I mentioned before, she has to be honest with me, she has to be faithful with me (meaning this I wouldn't be worry so much, but this I leave to Your
luxuriant imagination and I don't have in mind a money thing 😉); would be great if she would be interested in sport. What else? I like an intelligent girls with some hobbies, sensitive as me 😉 .. I could write here a lot more, but it's useless - finally we will see, if we match together, am I right? 😃
By the way, I live in Ireland (Dublin) for some time, but I'm not Irish 😉 I'm from Poland.
At the end I'd like You to read a fragment of my beloved saga - where You may find something I'm eager to find or.. is it just a dream?
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“The wish, Geralt! Hurry up! What do you desire? Immortality? Riches? Fame? Power? Might? Privileges? Hurry, we haven't any time!” He was silent. “Humanity,” she said suddenly, smiling nastily. “I’ve guessed, haven't I? That's what you want; that's what you dream of! Of release, of the freedom to be who you want, not who you have to be. The djinn will fulfill that wish, Geralt. Just say it.”
He stayed silent.
She stood over him in the flickering radiance of the wizard's sphere, in the glow of magic, amidst the flashes of rays restraining the djinn, streaming hair and eyes blazing violet, erect, slender, dark, terrible…
And beautiful.
All of a sudden she leaned over and looked him in the eyes. He caught the scent of lilac and gooseberries.
“You're not saying anything,” she hissed. “So what is it you desire, witcher? What is your most hidden dream? Is it that you don't know or you can't decide? Look for it within yourself, look deeply and carefully because, I swear by the Force, you won't get another chance like this!”
But he suddenly knew the truth. He knew it. He knew what she used to be. What she remembered, what she couldn't forget, what she lived with. Who she really was before she had become a sorceress.
Her cold, penetrating, angry and wise eyes were those of a hunchback.
He was horrified. No, not of the truth. He was horrified that she would read his thoughts, find out what he had guessed. That she would never forgive him for it. He deadened that thought within himself, killed it, threw it from his memory forever, without trace, feeling, as he did so, enormous relief. Feeling that—
The ceiling cracked open. The djinn, entangled in the net of the now fading rays, tumbled right on top of them, roaring, and in that roar were triumph and murder lust. Yennefer leapt to meet him. Light beamed from her hands. Very feeble light.
The djinn opened his mouth and stretched his paws toward her.
The witcher suddenly understood what it was he wanted.
And he made his wish." (..)
Yennefer, slightly flushed, knelt by him, resting her hands on her knees.
“Witcher.” She cleared her throat. “Are you dead?”
“No.” Geralt wiped the dust from his face and hissed.
Slowly, Yennefer touched his wrist and delicately ran her fingers along his palm. “I burnt you—”
“It's nothing. A few blisters—”
“I’m sorry. You know, the djinn's escaped. For good.”
“Do you regret it?”
“Not much.”
“Good. Help me up, please.”
“Wait,” she whispered. “That wish of yours…I heard what you wished for. I was astounded, simply astounded. I’d have expected anything but to…What made you do it, Geralt? Why…Why me?”
“Don't you know?”
She leaned over him, touched him. He felt her hair, smelling of lilac and gooseberries, brush his face and he suddenly knew that he'd never forget that scent, that soft touch, knew that he'd never be able to compare it to any other scent or touch. Yennefer kissed him and he understood that he'd never desire any lips other than hers, so soft and moist, sweet with lipstick. He knew that, from that moment, only she would exist, her neck, shoulders and breasts freed from her black dress, her delicate, cool skin, which couldn't be compared to any other he had ever touched. He gazed into her violet eyes, the most beautiful eyes in the world, eyes which he feared would become…
Everything. He knew.
“Your wish,” she whispered, her lips very near his ear. “I don't know whether such a wish can ever be fulfilled. I don't know whether there's such a Force in Nature that could fulfill such a wish. But if there is, then you've condemned yourself. Condemned yourself to me.”
He interrupted her with a kiss, an embrace, a touch, caresses and then with everything, his whole being, his every thought, his only thought, everything, everything, everything. They broke the silence with sighs and the rustle of clothing strewn on the floor. They broke the silence very gently, lazily, and they were considerate and very thorough. They were caring and tender and, although neither quite knew what caring and tenderness were, they succeeded because they very much wanted to. And they were in no hurry whatsoever. The whole world had ceased to exist for a brief moment, but to them, it seemed like a whole eternity.
And then the world started to exist again; but it existed very differently.
“Geralt?”
“Mmm?”
“What now?”
“I don't know.”
“Nor do I. Because, you see, I…I don't know whether it was worth condemning yourself to me. I don't know how—Wait, what are you doing…? I wanted to tell you—”
“Yennefer…Yen.”
“Yen,” she repeated, giving in to him completely. “Nobody's ever called me that. Say it again.”
“Yen.”
“Geralt.”
Andrzej Sapkowski
"The Last Wish"
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😃
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No limits in my imagination
