Tag Archives: Dear Sir

How Long Will I Love You?

Dear Sir,

I love you.

Always,

Darling

©2014  Darling and Sir

 

Lyrics

How long will I love you
As long as stars are above you
And longer if I can
How long will I need you
As long as the seasons need to
Follow their plan

How long will I be with you
As long as the sea is bound to
Wash up on the sand

How long will I want you
As long as you want me to
And longer by far
How long will I hold you
As long as your father told you
As long as you can

How long will I give to you
As long as I live through you
However long you say

How long will I love you
As long as stars are above you
And longer if I may

How long will I love you
As long as stars are above you

Darling Speaks Funny and Sir is Rewarded (Part 2)

My Dear Satiable Sir,

As stated in a previous letter, I ordered an appetizer in my ‘Ah-mer-i-cun’ speak. My scallops morphed into a salad much to my confusion. In order to rectify the situation, I was brought a salad and scallops (I was full before we even had our entrée).

As I was tasting the scrumptious scallops, I bit upon something hard. I spat it out and inspected the offensive object. You took it from me and also gave it your thorough attention. It appeared to be a small piece of plastic. You called the waiter over, and added to his embarrassment after the appetizer kerfuffle by showing him the piece of plastic that was in my dish of scallops.

As an apology, the waiter brought over a very nice glass of port after our meal. As a non-alcoholic drinker, I laughed at the irony. I took a small sip of port just to say I did then I pushed the glass over your way. You took one for the team and happily consumed the conciliatory glass of hootch. That’s my stalwart Sir.

I love you dearly and most sincerely.

Always refined,

Darling

……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

My Over Egged Darling

Yes you did get it all when it came to entrees at that particular establishment, both salad and scallops. But let’s be honest you were always a “have your cake and eat it too” kind of girl.

The scallops were scrumdiddlyumptious as I recall. Looking back at it now I think the piece of plastic may have actually been one of the chemical “rocks” they add to hydroponically grown vegetables. I may very well be wrong but it seems like a perfectly reasonable explanation for how it got there. Regardless, it most certainly did not belong anywhere in your meal. 

As for the tasty glass of fortified wine proffered by way of apology, it really did seem the least they could. I’m not sure I would have been able to stop at one though. I have always been a “nothing exceeds like excess” kind of guy. 

Imbibingly Yours

From Sir With Love

©2014  Darling and Sir

Toe-May-Toe or Toe-Mah-Toe

My Dear Verbose Sir,

Apparently I talk funny my love.

Once when we dined out, I ordered scallops,  in my damn Yankee speak, as an hors d’oeuvre. The waiter brought us our appetizers and placed a salad before me. He noticed the confusion on my face and asked if the salad wasn’t to my liking. I told him the salad looked great, but it wasn’t what I ordered. You informed him that I had ordered scallops in your proper Australian accent. The waiter sheepishly stated that he thought I said ‘salad.’ I suppose it was easier for him to guess what I said instead of asking for clarification from the Australian man sitting across from me. Or maybe it was a pride thing?

You thought it was hysterical. We both laughed, and it’s a great memory for us now. This wasn’t the only faux pas that happened to us during our many dining experiences, but I will save them for another letter. Suffice it to say I still like scallops and salad. I’m versatile that way.

Hungrily yours,

Darling

This is not a salad.

This is not a salad.

————————————————————————————————–

My Ravenous Darling

You have nothing like a damn Yankee accent. In fact I would be hard pressed to establish what region you hail from based on your accent alone. I am sure your speech patterns have a very proper name, something like “North American uninflected” or other such guff. I have no idea what it’s really called but it is certainly not southern and definitely not Yankee.

I fear the problem came when you said out loud “scallops.” Here in Australia it is pronounced with a soft “a” whereas your pronunciation was much harder. Therefore to his tender ears it would have sounded like “scallops” with the “cal” part sounding the same as it would in “California,” whereas here in Australia the “a” is pronounced as an “o.” The “cal” sounds the same as it would in “collar.” Therefore to represent it phonetically it would read “scollops.” To his delicate hearing it sounded closer to “salad” than “scallops.”

Clearly you had an issue with seafood while you were here my love. Between the oysters and the scallops our culinary world was rising up against you. I know you prevailed, however you even lived to tell the tale.

Epicureaningly Yours

From Sir With Love

©2014  Darling and Sir

Beneath Your Beautiful

Another exquisite song that touches us deeply. We love sharing music with each other and connecting on a deeper level.

Would you let me see beneath your beautiful
Would you let me see beneath your perfect…….

Would you let me see beneath your beautiful tonight?
Tonight, see beneath your beautiful
Oh tonight, we ain’t perfect, we ain’t perfect
Would you let me see beneath your beautiful tonight?

We see beneath your beautiful too.

Love,

Darling and Sir

Porn Star Name

Dear Heroic Sir,

I just wanted to write briefly to let you know how proud I am of you. I have always been aware of your many talents, and you have numerous ones both personally and professionally. I love that you’re an educated man.

I know you’re presently under a lot of stress trying to save a company. It’s what you do. It’s what you’re good at. That’s why you’re a wanted man. You’re a shrewd businessman, but you’re also honest. I admire your professional integrity.

Remember that I support and love you unconditionally. I told you that I would make you a cape, but only if you wear it alone with nothing else. Just for me.

Adroitly yours,

Darling

——————————————————————-

My Flattering Darling

You do me a great kindness with your words. I think you give me more credit that I deserve, but that only serves to make me love you more.

My new job has been sheer madness. As you know I took a position on a board to help save a company. After a little bright scrutiny, its CEO abruptly resigned. Amongst much accusation and acrimony I took on his job. It was both unexpected and unplanned. The place is a financial mess that needs remedial care and attention. I have taken some bold steps to either trade it out of the quagmire it is in or merge it with a larger competitor. It devours my time and attention.

As for the cape, well I appreciate your faith in my abilities. Time will tell if it is well founded. I will wear a cape and nothing more if that’s what you desire. I think (insert a self mocking tone at this point) I will need a “super hero” name however. I remember playing a game with friends where you take the name of your first pet and the name of the first street you lived in, joined them together and that became your “porn star name.”  Mine became Monty Excelsior and I can see that on the opening credits even now.

I think maybe for your “super hero name” you should use your favourite colour then your favourite weapon. Making my super hero name “The Purple Magnum”. What do you think?

Comically Yours

From Sir With Love

©2014 Darling and Sir

The Exposé That Exposed Our Exposition

My Dear Crisp Sir,

I know how you love your clothes newly washed and ironed. Well my dashing Sir, we have been virtually steamed. We have been Freshly Pressed in our corner of the blogosphere world here on WordPress. I am humbled that we were likened to those famous lovers Heloise and Abelard.

Twitter Freshly Pressed

I do find it a tad bit overwhelming, Sir. As you know, sharing our story wasn’t easy for me. I realized what was private and dear to me, may not be to someone else. We opened ourselves up to criticism. Because neither of us are wallflowers, we decided to go for it.

I love you. Period. To me that is the best headline-heart-news ever, and it’s so natural. Thank you for taking this journey with me. There is no one else I would choose to walk down this path with; I adore you immensely.

Freshly Press

Productively yours,

Darling

————————————————————————————————————

My Corresponding Darling

All I can say is what happened while I slept? Here I was in the land of Oz and unbeknownst to me we had been selected to appear on the Freshly Pressed page and voila hundreds more views and dozens more followers. I blame you!

As I woke up groggily, I reached for my phone (as is my want to see what message you may have sent me) and along with one of your more concentrated series of “text bombs” there were close to 200 page views, multiple likes and quite a few comments from the world of WordPress. Now no doubt there would be users of this site for whom those numbers would be quite passé. For me they were extraordinary. I got quite a rush. The hits are still coming.

I should say that the good people at WordPress did give us a heads up by way of email. I must, however, be honest here and admit this out loud; I didn’t check my mail and therefore missed it.

The entire blog was your idea. The concept of letters was your idea. The only refinement I made was to request the right of reply. So here we are my Darling. The Sir Letters has enjoyed its first minor dose of notoriety and we have had a taste of increased visitation along with page views by the hundreds. Would it be crass of me to say I’ve quite enjoyed it?

Being compared to Heloise and Abelard was, quite frankly, astonishing. It is a parallel worth considering, but hopefully we will not be parted for twenty years to then only briefly see one another one last time before we shuffle off this mortal coil. Nor do I hope we need a famous French General’s wife to exhume our remains then rebury us together for all eternity. I have far more immediate and, quite frankly, far more carnal dreams than that.

We have bared our souls to the world and, in the main, the world has not found us wanting. Undoubtedly things will settle back down again, and our friendly little community will continue on. The headlines for me are that you went looking for me, you eventually found me, you still very much love me and I still very much love you. Give me a rooftop to shout it from.

Pressingly Yours

From Sir With love

©2014 Darling and Sir

Unspoken Provocation

My Dear Passionate Sir,

I am really not sure where we were, but I think we were at the mall. I remember we stopped for some refreshments at a café. You ordered hot beverages for both of us and some food. I was sitting at a small, round table waiting for you. There was a little ledge to my right, upon which I propped my foot.

You returned with our victuals, and we started to eat in silence. I noticed you were studying me more intently than normal.  After a few moments of comfortable silence you looked at me very seriously and said, “If you don’t put your leg down, I am going to come across this table and do you right here and now.”

I blinked and blushed furiously (as you knew I would), but I did not break eye contact; the challenge was set. I picked up my mug and took a sip as I stared back at you. I did not put my foot down. I. Kept. It. Right. Where. It. Was. I didn’t say a word, and your gaze could have seared me on the spot.

You see my dear Sir, I figured out early on that you were used to people cowering under your fierce gaze. You met your match in me, as I do not cower. That’s not to say that you didn’t have me trembling, but it was for an entirely different reason altogether. Your look was fiery, sparking, and deliberate. I welcomed your challenge.

You slowly smiled at me, and I smiled in return. Without saying a word, it was mutually agreed upon that we would be going home after we finished. We ate very leisurely. Very. Calmly.

I observed that you kept your hand on some part of my body at all times as we traveled home on the train (or did we take a cab? I don’t remember that either). What I do remember was your hand was hot wherever it touched my skin.

When we got home, that damn noise became our friend again, and we felt very dehydrated. It became so unbearably hot in your room that we both reached a state of undress. This was a win-win situation. Game. Set. Match. Love.

Feverishly yours,

Darling

———————————————————–

My Provocative Darling

I more than fondly remember your leg perched on that ledge. It was certainly a provocative gesture. You may not have consciously thought about it, but your sub conscious was sending me very clear signals indeed (or so I chose to think).

You were not expected to cower. You were not expected to do anything. I have no doubt you knew it then as you know it now, but I was paying you a compliment. Even in public with only a slight hint of provocation you were very much sending me, along with my imagination, into sensory overload.

I have no idea where we were, what we ate or how we got home. The need to partake in some horizontal folk dancing was overwhelming. We indulged our desires of that I am sure.

It may have been March (the first month of autumn here in the land of Oz), but the bedroom was steamy for a number reasons. No doubt dehydration was a very real concern.

I can picture you still.

You Will Always Be My Darling

From Sir With Love

©2014 Darling and Sir

Rueful Eve

Dear Sorrowful Sir,

On this recent Christmas Eve (early your Christmas morning), I fell apart on you while we were talking on the phone. A bit of old hurt cropped up and spewed forth due to something you were saying.  You were discussing your marriage. You had stated how bad the last couple of years of your marriage had been but specifically how your last year was really awful.  I questioned if any of it had been good. You responded that the first year you two were together you had been very physically intimate; in other words, you two had sex a lot. A. Lot.  I felt like you had slapped me.

I compared my first year after you, and that’s where we completely differed. I wasn’t physically intimate with anyone as I struggled to trust and feel again. I remarked that I guess that’s the difference between men and women. I shut down; you fucked around (pardon my language). I guess to a man a lot of sex makes something good.

I can’t even remember the first Christmas after you. You told me about yours in detail.

I am ashamed of this letter.

Remorsefully yours,

Darling

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

My Dear Upset Darling

What a Christmas phone call that was. We’ve discussed many things upon reconnecting, included in that has been a reasonably thorough dissection of my marriage.  I know you don’t take pleasure from my misery but you have asked the hard questions and I have tried to provide accurate answers.

Firstly I do remember that first Christmas without you. I remember meeting my future mother in law for the first time. She back handed me on the stomach and told me I could afford to lose a little of that. I vividly recall my barbed response and how it set the tone of our relationship (in good news however it showed her son in law and her future daughter in law that she could be stood up to and put in her place when she decided to be controlling and rude.) I also remember the awful gifts I received (a pair of boxer shorts with some other guy’s name on them and a cheap bottle of souvenir port that was clearly being re gifted.) These were both courtesy of my future mother in law as well. She hadn’t met me until that day but she had already decided that she wasn’t going to like me.

I am truly sorry that I took away your Christmas memories. That was never my intent and was clearly a by-product of my despicable behaviour.

In terms of the amount of sex I had with my ex wife I should point out that it was at your behest that I tried to quantify it. I didn’t gloat, I didn’t dwell on it and I certainly didn’t take any pleasure in telling you as I knew there would be hurt. I was however not going to lie to you about it. I have told you when we’ve talked and quite possibly elsewhere in this blog that I tried to turn her into you. It doesn’t bear repeating but that was an abject failure, doomed from the start. Yes I slept with her and no doubt at the relationship’s beginning we fornicated to our heart’s content. I did not however sleep around. I went from having one partner, you, to another partner, her. What galls me though is that you shut down and that I denied you the right to seek pleasure for yourself. Again my Darling I am truly sorry.

I don’t think these words will grant you any comfort but nor will I try to hide behind a veil of half truths or lies of omission. We did have a fabulous Christmas phone call later in the day and also again on your Christmas Day therefore I hope you can draw pleasure from those.

You have no need of remorse.

You Will Always Be My Darling

From Sir With Love

©2013 Darling and Sir