To My Dearest Darling Click The Greeting To Hear Sir Read His Letter
It was March 1999. It was your last night in Australia. It was the last night I looked lovingly into your eyes. It was both awful and intense. I was despondent.
We had returned to Sydney after our dalliances in the Blue Mountains, at Jenolan Caves and in the Hunter Valley. We had one last day together, one last night. We thought we would see one another again and yet still it hurt. The pain, it was like no other. It was a pain that has no name. You were soon to leave these shores. I was desolate.
You reminded me recently how we stood in my laundry as we washed and dried your clothes. I had forgotten, but the memories came flooding back. I would have tried to keep busy, tried to deny that awful reality. I would have also wanted your life to be easy; so we washed, we dried, we folded, and we packed. We readied ourselves to send you on your way. I was disconsolate.
I had booked us tickets to the theatre. We went and saw quite a famous Australian performer at the beautiful State Theatre in Sydney. Barry Humphries and his characters Dame Edna Everage, Sir Les Patterson and Sandy Stone featured in a quite wonderful show called “Remember You’re Out.” You sat beside me struggling with the accent. I wanted the distraction. The show? It was hysterical. My laughter? It was shrill. I was dejected.
I don’t remember where we ate that night. I remember the ride home in the taxi. I remember driving past the incomplete Sydney Olympic Stadium. I just held your hand with a quiet intensity. I was wretched.
We went to bed. We made love. It was fervid and frantic. We could sense the inevitable. Tomorrow’s dawn, it was the Sword of Damocles above our heads. I just lay there and held you. We barely spoke a word. I was bereft.
The sun’s early light would broker no argument. The day was here. It was ours to face. I hated it. We had to return our hire car. I loaded your luggage. We would off load it again as we caught a cab to Kingsford Smith upon returning the vehicle. I remember the taxi driver. He was everything you would want, happy, cheerful, chatty and ready to please. He saw the look on my face in his rear view mirror. He went silent. I was mournful.
We arrived at the airport. I don’t remember checking in, I don’t remember what we did. I just remember one thing, holding you in my arms for one last time. My left hand was tightly round your waist. My right, it cradled your neck and head. I drank in your aroma one last time, our lips locked one last time, and we held each other’s hands one last time. Then it was time to go. We separated. You went forward. Then with tears in your eyes and one last long look back, you were gone. I was inconsolable.
At that point I just lost it. Until then I had held it together (well almost). There was nothing for it now though, the tears where streaming down my overwrought cheeks. What was I to do? You were gone. I grabbed a bottle of water and sat at some dodgy outside table and awaited your plane’s departure. I saw the wheels leave the tarmac, watched them slide under the fuselage and with the four angry engines of the Qantas 747 screaming, awash with ugly power, the plane ascended, banked and you were gone. I was numb.
The centre of my world had left me. In pain, I set off home. I didn’t jump a bus or hail a cab. I walked, well at least I started to. It was about 30 kilometres from the airport to my home. I think I walked about a third of the way before my shoe leather began to bite, and I abandoned my ridiculous undertaking. When I returned to my home, well it had never felt so empty. I began to tidy things up and found your pyjamas, a story I have already relayed.
My Darling I have never experienced such love, such loss and such anguish all wrapped together like a pain ridden bundle of hurt. I knew then at least that we would be together again. That was how I consoled myself. I most assuredly messed that up as you well know.
Darling I must say it again. Thank you for searching for me, finding me and reaching out to me. You are my everything.
You Will Always Be My Darling
From Sir With Love
Oh My Sir, Click The Greeting To Hear Darling Read Her Letter
That day is hard to talk about. It hurts reading your words and seeing it through your eyes. I can still feel the pain even now from that day; it’s sharp and real. How crazy is that?
Our last night together was so beautiful as well as excruciating. The theater was stunning, and you were so handsome. While I enjoyed Barry Humphries, I was more aware of the good-looking man next to me. Many of Barry’s jokes went over my head and I did struggle with understanding him, but to be fair I was very distracted as well. The time bomb was ticking, and I was really conscious of it.
I remember making love with you after we returned to your house; I cried nearly the whole time. I wasn’t sobbing, but the tears silently rolled down my face. You tenderly kissed them off my cheeks and held me. We weren’t rushed that night. Our love making was unhurried, deliberate, and poignant. You gave me your body and your heart and soul, and I gave you mine in return. I cherished every bit of you.
I remember I had a huge lump in my throat that made it hard to breathe. I was scared to sleep because the morning was coming; it was inevitable. I had a hard time getting up the next morning because of the sorrow that hung in the air. I had to go home. I was leaving you.
I recall crying in the cab as you firmly held onto my hand. I don’t remember the cab driver though. I was too dejected to notice I suppose. You notice everything. I love that about you.
I remember our last hug. I can feel your strong arms around me even now. You held me so tightly. I bawled. My legs felt like lead as I forced myself to walk away and pass through the security gates. I remember thinking that I shouldn’t look back, but I had to. I needed to see you. My last vision of you was blurry, because my tears got in the way.
When I felt the plane lift off from the runway, the hole in my heart got bigger. I left a giant piece of it with you. You still have that piece; it was yours to keep. The flight attendant kept asking me if there was anything she could do for me as my swollen, tear-streaked face was obvious. I could only shake my head no. I remember I was still crying when we flew over Hawaii. I would cry myself to sleep, wake up, and then I would start to cry again. I was one dehydrated, hot mess.
I called you from Los Angeles. You were relieved I had made it back to the United States safely. We talked about me going ahead with the plans we had made while we were together. You told me about finding my purple pajamas in your spare bed. I told you to keep them safe for me until I returned.
If I had only known…..
©2014 Darling and Sir
D, I’ve had nights and mornings like that too. So sad, yet beautiful. I wouldn’t trade the experience or the memories though – no matter how difficult it is to recall them. You and Sir captured those emotions beautifully.
You always say the nicest things. Thank you for that.
No matter the outcome, Sir and I agree that we wouldn’t change meeting and spending time with each other for any price. I guess that’s why we call it love.
I loved hearing this and reading this as well.
The emotion was felt and heard.
Such a great story.
Those letters were extremely hard for both of us to read. We nearly didn’t share the recordings.
We’re happy you felt our hearts.
I’m happy i felt your hearts too.
I could only imagine how hard it was to record it.
We have had that post kicking around in draft for quite some time. When we were unexpectedly featured in Freshly Pressed it seemed the obvious next post. We wanted any new readers to experience the contrasts in our style without having to go back through our entire post history.
To say that I appreciate you feeling our pain just shows that sometimes words are inadequate. That day is still very raw and very fresh in my mind. It is part of our story and it needs to be told. I thought it might hurt less when we shared it. I guess only time will tell.
Sir, I would say time heals all wounds but sometimes it’s not time, it’s the person.
Pleased you think so. Thanks for commenting.
Dear Sir and Ms.Darling,
There is something about the brain – it is a brilliant piece of machinery to say the least. When you read something that you can relate to, when you see a beautiful painting, when you listen to the verses of a touching song, when you watch a movie where the hero does something incredible, the reason why we feel that like it was our own experience is because of a certain centre in our brain which can procreate it so vividly*.
When I read these two letters (I did not listen to the audio this time), I was able to sit in the theatre next to you, I saw you make love, I saw Ms.Darling’s tears and I saw Sir kiss them away, I saw you in the taxi, I saw you hugging each other, I saw Ms.Darling turn back blurry eyed and look at Sir and I saw Sir standing broken as Ms.Darling looked at him one last time and feigned a small smile and raised her hand in a half wave. I saw the flight take off from Sir’s table and I saw the flight leave the ground seated next to Ms.Darling and felt heavy myself.
I do not know what to say. It reminds me of something myself. But I do not wish to make a silly comparison.
I don’t even know how to end this comment. So I am going to say something silly ‘Ms. Darling, it is about time you went and got your pajamas back. Or Sir, please be the gentleman you are and take it back to her with a bouquet of flowers, if you will please’ 🙂
To eternal love and hope,
* the very same reason we enjoy porn.
What a powerful response and reaction, BP. You have a very strong and effective sense of imagery – very impressive.
Sir has listened to my recording once. He says it’s too painful to listen to it again. We nearly didn’t share them due to the emotional difficulty.
Again, thank you for your comment BP. It is always a pleasure to read them.
Thank you for your kind words Ms.Darling. The imagery was fed by your words, so all credit to you.
So are you doing down to get your pajamas or not? 🙂 😉
Hello Ms.Darling and Sir,
After I heard the audio of ‘Hey, Guess What?’, I was tempted to hear the ‘The last day’ by Ms.Darling. It truly is emotional. I did not manage to hear the whole thing. After the pause and the heavy breathing after ‘and I gave you mine in return. I cherished every bit of you.’ I stopped listening.
I am going through a lot of emotions myself. My attempts at trying to happy are shortlived. But this is deeper than anything.
I wish all goodness and happiness to fill your lives.
I’m sorry my recording bothered you. It was difficult for me to record, and it was also difficult for Sir to listen to.
Thanks for trying.
Please do not apologise Ms.Darling. It takes more than just words to touch someone. You folks do that over and over again. So I would be proud if I were you.
Hi BP I hate listening to this recording. I only did it to make sure the volume level was correct. I have no desire to go back and relive it again. I am sorry to hear you are also struggling BP. Thanks for your good wishes. Regards Sir
I understand Sir.
Again, wish you the best.
What an extraordinary comment. Firstly I must say I am truly humbled by your words. Secondly I love your plan for the return of those pyjamas. The moment I am given permission they will be returned in person post-haste!
Oh and I am the first to like this post. I have done something significant today.
By the way, can I request you to write about how you met online in the first place? Or have I missed reading an already written great post.
Read “The Virtual Beginning.” That is when we first met online.
Omg is this awesome or what? 1999, same as my internet romance, too! But thank God, mine hasn’t suffered as you and Sir – I’m so happy you’ve reconnected! Please keep sharing, I’d love to hear more! And do visit me to read our romance, too, here’s a taste: http://aishasoasis.wordpress.com/2014/01/10/ep-8-joyride-to-egypt-ive-got-mail/
What a fun coincidence. Thank you for you sweet words. Sir and I will be sure and check out your blog.
FREAKING AWESOME… For the first time, my speakers were plugged and I heard both your voice.. so HOTTTT and not just one, but both of you.. You’ve got “THE LOVE VOICE” I believe.. sign me as YOUR FAN pls… LOVE LOVE LOVE this blog.. Liking your FB page today 🙂 : )
Aww Shruti, You are so sweet. I take it you haven’t heard us read other letters before this one? Lol you chose our most difficult one to record. We nearly didn’t post these audios. Believe me when I say that Sir is as hot as he sounds. 😉 ~Darling
Haha I love to talk to someone so blessed in love… You should be alk over the world.. Trust me these letters are friggin fantastic.. Though I will hate to see them not on WP, But you must give publishing a serious thought.. This would sell like hot cakes
And u’ve got a grooovy voice too.. No matter how distorted it sounds, I am in love with the two of you <3<3
HA – I sound distorted?!? I am laughing here. That slays me. You’re giving me a complex. 😀 😀
Did you listen to some of the other audios? lol I blame Sir. He distorted me!
No noooooo u don’t sound distorted at all.. My apologies for miscommunication.. What I meant was.. It sounds distorted if I would say.. I am in love with a couple which I am… U speak like a woman in love which us never distorted… NEVER
Haha okay I understand now. Darn, I wanted to blame Sir for something.
Too funny. It’s all good.
Haha I re read my comment and it did look like that.. Lol I am stupid.. U cud blame Sir for makin u the loveliest in the world 🙂 🙂 sometime in future, I want to blog abt the two of u.. Is that ok???
Of course, but I really don’t see us as blog worthy. Well Sir is extraordinary, but I’m pretty average.
You make me smile Shruti. Stay sweet.
Awww.. Thankiee.. But noo u r excellent… Tooooo goooodd
I am truly humbled that you enjoyed this so much. Thanks you yet again for playing a part in our little community. I am not showering myself in false modesty when I say that I am totally surprised by some of the passionate responses we receive (yourself included). When I read things like your comment it makes it all worthwhile.