37. "I'm in love, Do you know what the heck that means?"/Part Three
His ferocious war wasn’t waged against my shyness, since he found my bashfulness quite enthralling; nor was it waged against my artlessness, which he adored. Rather, it was against the reserve that tradition and culture had deeply embedded in my innermost being through years of social and religious acculturation. He assumed the role of a mentor, guiding me tenderly and with incredible patience and respect, teaching me not to loathe or be disdainful of my emotions and feelings, but to esteem and admire them. His copious wisdom was the medium that bridged the cultural chasm that often reared between us. Given the limited time he had, since his assignment in Iraq was temporary, he used it intelligently so that it worked to his advantage. His love galloped along, taking magnificent strides by the day, by the hour, and by the minute. It must have been for him a different type of love, a peculiar love that he had perhaps never lived or experienced before—a chaste, pure and flawless love, bu...