8. chapter 8
I loved Kirsten. I really did. I didn't want to leave her. But I had made a commitment to my country. I had to fight. And that's what I told her. She agreed with me and we went back to loving each other just like before.
We spent as much time together as we could for the next two weeks. We strolled across beaches and went swimming in crystal clear lakes.
On our last night in Ireland we went to a little pub. It had a sort of timeless beauty to it that I couldn't get enough of. It was full of boisterous Irish people singing and dancing.
There was a fiddler playing a happy tune. People were skipping and prancing about with partners, groups, and even by themselves.
I looked at Kirstin and she looked back at me. I could tell we were thinking the same thing. I kissed her cheek, grabbed her hand and pulled her onto the dance floor.
She giggled as we spun and skipped to the happy music. I jut loved it when she laughed. I read online somewhere that in order to make a girl fall in love, you had to make her laugh. But whenever she laughed, I was the one who fell in love.