Calling me that is supposed to make everything better?
The name is a meaningless joke these days: I’m not Swedish, never
have been, never will be. As far as my life now is concerned, the damn place
shouldn’t even exist.
This from the same
woman who was going to miss Sweden so much, she broke down crying in front of three dozen Swedes at a Heathen gathering—then
belted out a few bars of the national anthem?
I made a fool of myself in public. Everyone
loses his self-control now and then, stops acting logical; I don’t need an imaginary friend to justify my behavior any
more, the way I did as a girl. For the sake of what little sanity I have left,
please find someone else to convince!
Was it imaginary
when I made Dr. Grundy lose his American accent that night in Gamla Uppsala?
The man had a background in theater and was taking language classes. Big freaking deal!
Was it imaginary
when I set you up with that priest in Atlanta?
Coincidence—he and I happened to log on at the same time. Plus an ER technician with a background in counseling would be good at talking me out of suicide anyway.
Was it imaginary
when Kent
e-mailed you the invitation to that gathering last year, or when three dozen people told you that you weren’t crazy for having such strong feelings?
People don’t always say what they’re really thinking. For all I know, some of them could have wanted to check the Yellow Pages for the nearest shrink!
You’re
selling both of us short, Ingeborg. Cynicism never solved anything in the real
world. Life isn’t an algebra test—with definite answers for everything,
and no place for heart and soul.
This from the “God of the World”, the god of ordinary practical life? Crops, copulation and cash—you can’t get much more basic and practical
than that. Besides, weren’t you trying to convince me last night…
What is it
you’re always telling your Asatru friends—“read the freaking Eddas”?
I’m also the god who fell in love at first sight, got depressed about it, gave away his most precious possession
to get his wife…and couldn’t wait nine nights for the wedding. Even
in Asgard, there’s a time to be practical and a time to be passionate.
Look, one of your own priests has told me I need to forget about what I really want, and
accept—
He means well,
but he works a bit too hard for his own good. Yes, you should take care of your
ordinary life—pay your bills, see your doctor, do what everybody needs to do sometimes—but that does not mean you should forget about being in Sweden for good. It’s
not an either/or situation, Ingeborg.
As long as I know where the opportunities are…
Right. Just don’t expect me to mark the way with flashing neon signs, OK? We’re not big on dramatic miracles where I come from.
Got you. Remember what else we did when—
I thought
you’d never ask! *hug*
Mmmm…just like old times! *hug*
