The Christmas Call

Dearest Sir,

Who needs a call from Santa, when you call instead?  Do you remember phoning that year on your Christmas (our Christmas Eve)?  You talked to both of my children, and you were incredibly sweet.

I recall you telling them that Santa had already been Down Under, and you had it on good authority that they’ve both been good that year. They couldn’t quite comprehend that Santa had already been to your place. You soothed their fears and got them excited (even more than they already were) for Christmas the following morning.

This is just a small, happy memory that I have of you. It still warms my heart and makes me smile.

Sweetly,

Darling

———————————————————————————–

My Darling

I do remember that call quite vividly. No doubt I wanted to hear your voice. I mean we spoke daily even then, well before the advent of free VOIP calls and mobile internet apps. I became quite the expert on which phone companies had the best deals for calls to the United States.

But the most endearing part was hearing your kids and how excited they were about Christmas and the imminent arrival of Santa. There is nothing quite like enjoying Christmas through the eyes of a young child. Your two were 7 and 4 I think? I especially remember your daughter being totally incredulous when I told her Santa has already been to Australia and that he was on his way to her home now. She seemed quite worried that he may not make it there and that she might in some way miss out. I remember saying she had nothing to fear and that Santa held both she and her brother in high regard and that Christmas Day would see them gets lots of great presents.

It was lots of fun and to hear their excitement. Their obvious joy as that momentous day in their little lives approached was an absolute delight. As a coda you know that your now adult daughter and I spoke briefly not that long ago. That she even recollected that call gave me no end of pleasure.

Ho Ho Ho You Will Always be My Darling

From Sir With Love

©2013 Darling and Sir

Advertisement

Wondering

A poem by Darling expressing her innermost thoughts as she ponders the whereabouts of Sir. Written in July 2013.

 

It’s been nearly fifteen years

I have cracked open the door

Of memories that I shut long ago

.

I feel like I can breathe again

My heart is no longer constricted

And I don’t have to tip toe

.

And I wonder how you are

And if you’ve found happiness

And if you think of me

.

Do your eyes still glow

When you tell a joke

Do you continue to dream

.

Do you see places we’ve been

Remembering with a smile

Or do you still ache

.

Are you curious about the ‘what-ifs’

Or have times of regret

Thinking it was all a mistake

.

I’m wondering.

.

By Darling ©2013 TSL

I Honestly Love You

Hello My Darling

I did something tonight while you were asleep that made me think of you. Now that in itself is quite the norm. I mean I have this blog, your blog, our chat logs, our photos, your photos, our memories and our songs.

Now when you bed down each evening I normally don my headphones and take a brisk walk around the local golf course. It clears my head and lets me spend an uninterrupted hour just thinking about you. I choose the golf course because it is the most visually appealing part of town. You know I find my current location a little dreary. I have made some excellent friends here but in the way of cultural diversions I find it a little wanting. Anyway tonight I chose no play list at all. I usually choose one that fits the mood, often based on the tone of our last conversation. I was thinking about one of “our” songs. You only recently told me of its meaning, I confess that I’d forgotten and how I’d poisoned it for you. I’m sure I once knew, but my years are catching up with me darling and my memory is not what it used to be.

Anyway I decided to play it. I needed to see how it felt. I know I played it over and over for you. I know I meant every word of it at the time, and I feel I still do. So I suppose I was wondering several things: How did you feel about me doing that? Do you think you could listen to it again without the rancour? And lastly if you think you could, would you listen to it for me and tell me how you feel?

The song you will of course know. Written by Peter Allen and made famous by Olivia Newton John. None other than “I Honestly Love You.”

You Will Always Be My Darling

From Sir With Love

———————————————————————————————————–

Lovely Sir,

After reading your letter early this morning, I have pondered on your request all day. I decided to do as you so kindly requested, and I played our old song tonight; I played it many times. I listened to the words, and all the past memories came back with such a force that my heart hurt terribly.  I heard the haunting melody as well as absorbed the meaning and I couldn’t help myself – I wept.  I am not sure what kind of tears they were; I’d like to think cleansing ones, but if I were honest there were bitter and resentful ones mixed in with an aching that was sharp and real.

This song was your anthem to me. I remember watching you play it. My eyes followed your beautiful fingers as they lovingly caressed the piano keys to this tune, then I couldn’t help myself – my eyes were drawn upward to watch your face as you played. You were caught up in the moment of music and love. I was held captive in rapture. I felt what you meant for me to feel. I was in tune to you (sorry for the pun). I ached.

That was taken from me. What was once beautiful withered and died. I abhorred that song when I heard it. I steered clear of it. I turned off the radio if by some slim chance it came on. I couldn’t face reality. Sometimes, as you know, I still can’t; consequently, I am trying. I wonder if I should have refrained from bringing up the subject of this song since you had forgotten, but you have asked me to never hide the truth from you or my feelings. I respect and love you enough to adhere to your wishes.

My hands are even shaking a little as I type this. I know what these words are going to do to your heart as well, and I wish with all my being that I could shield you from yourself.  I am listening to the song as I compose this letter. I am so deeply sorry.

On a positive note (I’d like to end it as such), I feel like I have climbed this ugly mountain. I can see the other side. I like that you played this song again after so many years. I can imagine you playing it, because I had the privilege of seeing that first hand. Thank you for that memory. Hopefully all the bad will be replaced by good. This is such a new road to walk on. Thank you for walking it with me. I honestly love you.

Achingly yours,

Darling

 

©2013 Darling and Sir

Arms Wide Open

My Sweet Sir,

Recently we’ve shared memories and old pictures from our past. You sent one to me that I had forgotten and lost; not surprisingly, it has strongly affected me when I saw it again. It was one of the first photos you emailed me of you (if not the actual first one). You are above Watson’s Bay on a place you dubbed “The Rock.” You are bold and confident with a yellow sweater wrapped around your shoulders looking so debonair. Your arms are spread wide, and the beautiful Sydney skyline is behind you.

I love this picture for what it represented to me in my mind at the time. There you were a tall, dark-haired man whose smile pierced through the screen into my soul. Good grief you were so young and sure. Your open arms seemed to beckon me forward as if welcoming me into your life in a symbolic invitation that I so desperately wanted to accept right then and there, but neither one of us was looking for anything of that nature. Our feelings were just beginning to emerge and our relationship was growing and maturing. We were content to take it slow and enjoy the process of unraveling the mysteries of who we both were.

I could finally connect that rich, deep voice to a face, and it was a perfect match. I remember thinking that if those arms were to wrap around me, I’d never want to leave the safety of their circle. To be hugged and held in those long arms was a fantasy and dream. I escaped to that dream often. I found comfort in it and in you.

We’ve shared many significant hugs that I know will be talked about at some point. I dream of your hug now. I can’t even fathom being held in your arms again.

Yearningly,

Darling

Sir

————————————————————————————————————-

My Darling

How truly wonderful that you remember that photo so fondly, I remember when it was taken and the photographer. At the time I had no idea it would become part of your life.  I have a definite memory of emailing it to you however, I had to choose it carefully. I had hit an age and my vanity and ego were a little fragile as somewhat evidenced by my choice. A little paunch had developed and maybe some love handles. The sweater, or jumper as we would call it here, nicely disguised the later of the issues and the front on pose to the camera disguised the other.

The jumper itself holds a special place in my heart. As you are already aware it was hand knitted by my dear old mother. It is one of those things that I treasure. My mother who only left this world a little over eighteen months ago, just 3 days shy of her 90th birthday, would be pleased to know her handiwork still has an admirer. It means a lot to me that you speak of it so warmly. Having said all that I must admit to feeling it to be faintly preposterous that we imbue an inanimate object with such affection. However when you search across the void that is the world wide web you clutch on to every subtlety, every nuance to ensure you garner the very last drop of meaning out of every exchange and intimacy shared.  On a more light hearted note you will be pleased to know that it still fits, even if there is less room to move within the garment itself. 

You are right however when you say that when I sent you that picture it was not an overtly intentional invitation to come join me. We were certainly growing closer, but there were many things that could prevent us from being together, the most obvious being the Pacific Ocean and the 12,600 kilometres that stood, and still stands, so firmly between us. I’d love to think that I was sending you some subliminal message even then. It’s nice to think that you saw it so. You say we were content to take it slow and let the mysteries unravel. I certainly agree with that on an emotional level. But the rational side of us fought that feeling, not hard or particularly well, but there was a fight nonetheless. The fact that we gave in and let our emotions run rampant is a testimony to how strong our bond became.

You say it was your fantasy to be held in those arms. Well it was my fantasy to hold you. You and I both know that we fulfilled both of our fantasies on that particular front. Yes we will talk of that time as this story unfolds. But I must say it saddens me a little to hear you say you cannot fathom being held in my arms again. That is however my cross to bear. As we grow closer through this process, far closer than we have been for many many years. I am inextricably drawn to you; I can’t help but hold on to some utterly unachievable goal that one day we may share that simple pleasure again.

 

You Will Always Be My Darling

From Sir With Love

————————————————————————————————————-

My Dear Sir,

Unfathomable isn’t impossible, it’s just hard to imagine after so much time has passed. I want to insert our favorite Downton Abbey quote here, but it has an ironic, cruel twist to it in this context.

Continue reading

Change of Identity

My Darling

Reminiscing about our time together in that chat room all those years ago has brought many memories flooding back. It seems a little trite after your poetic utterances but there is one incident in particular that stands out in my mind. It was the day we swapped identities.

I may need to go “full geek” here a bit to explain what really happened. My darling you were always lightning fast; your brain and your fingers seemed to operate on a plane above we mere mortals. I couldn’t actually admit it to myself at the time, but you were actually quicker on the draw. I would console myself with the fact that you were in America and closer to the servers, and your ping was faster. I would make excuses that here in far away Australia I only had a 33.6k dial up modem whereas you had the superior 56k variety.  To the younger generation this will mean naught, but to those of us who grew up listening to the sounds of those modems as they made that hideous “connecting to the internet sound” they will know the significance of those numbers. 

That sound! I hear it now. Occasionally there will be an old film or TV show that has it in the background. It plays and I am instantly transported back to you. It was the sound that trumpeted your arrival, our connection. In reality it was shrill and coarse, but to me it was the soundtrack of my love for you. How strange that sounds and later smells should trigger such vivid memories of you. But I digress. 

As I have already said, you were a dynamo, totally unstoppable. I would just sit and bask in your brilliance and wit. To the rest of the room though, when we went at it and let go with our full arsenal of caustic comments, the ironic one liners, the caustic barbs, the devastating put downs, well they would just go a little quiet. They were in awe. You and I, we were having the time of our cyber lives. They would see some acerbic comment and think a killer blow had been landed. They waited for one us to wilt under the strain. It may be my rose coloured memory but I don’t ever recall feeling hurt or even slighted by one thing you ever said. I would just throw my head back and laugh. Then I’d keep a mental tally knowing that an opportunity would present itself and I would exact my revenge. 

So, let’s be a little hedonistic here, we were brilliant together. Then at some point, and I’m not sure who was initially responsible, we decided to switch identities. The fact that we would happily exchange our passwords, even when viewed through the prism of a simpler time, still shows how much I both trusted and loved you. So we were in our chat room. You were me, and I was you. And so it began. We knew each other so well that we could mimic each other’s “internet voice” for want of a better description. I cringe to say it because it reveals a vain shortcoming of my own but you even replicated one of my regular typos. You typed “loose” instead of “lose” and any variation of those two words. I hated that you knew me so well (not really) but I loved the agility of your mind and the fact that you so thoroughly took on my chat room persona and inhabited it so completely. We then set about flirting with ourselves. The narcissism didn’t strike me at the time but goodness knows what a competent psychologist would make of our behaviour. I know I used to make jokes about being so arrogant that I would cry out my own name at the moment of climax while making love. I think this may have been the chat room equivalent. 

Anyway we did this on only a few occasions and when that field was fallow we moved on to greener pastures. I am not sure why this memory has surfaced now but it makes me so damn happy to remember you at the top of your game, though I fear for my own sake that you still may very well be at the pinnacle. It seems strange that such an act of self indulgence be such a fond memory. It just showed you in all your magnificent glory and revealed, if only to me, how truly brilliant you were and still are. I was completely head over heels in love with by this time. This just cemented in my mind how truly remarkable our connection was, and dare I say still is. I love you my darling. Words cannot express what it is like to have you back in my life. To find myself reliving our past in a blog should be a little disconcerting, however it is not. I have no need to interrogate why I feel the way I do about you, but by putting these thoughts down in writing it has crystallised my emotions and confirmed them on yet another level.

You Will Always Be My Darling

From Sir With Love

———————————————————————————————-

My Dear Sir,

What connivers we were! I had forgotten all about our switching identities scheme. I had studied your online character intensely, and I have no doubt that I felt rather confident in impersonating you; consequently, I would never be so presumptuous and bold now. I had even forgotten your ‘lose – loose’ mix-ups. That made me smile. I loved you for your minute, human errors. I found them to be on the adorable side for such a strong person. I even found it rather endearing that I made a better online man than you made a woman purely for the reason that your masculinity was so prominent. Your charisma is as astounding today as it was back then. Some things never change.

If memory serves me (and I admit you have the stronger independent recollection here), I do think I remarked and teased you about all the private messages I received while pretending to be you. You had many female admirers. They all wanted to rub shoulders with my Sir. I couldn’t fault them for wanting the very thing I did.

I trusted you implicitly with my name, and I know that trust was reciprocated. I would never have abused your faith in me. Your name had a reputation of being a gentleman, and I had to uphold it no matter how tempting it was to tell your female fans to get lost. You are correct that we never hurt one another intentionally with our verbal sparring. It was exhilarating and entertaining. If you even thought for a second that you had hurt my feelings, you would instantly apologize. Again, proof that you were (and are) a true gentleman.

I think this memory of yours (and mine) held a much higher purpose because it answered the question – could we trust each other? I think we both passed with flying colors.

Fondly,

Darling

 

©2013 Darling and Sir

Audio Recall

Dearest Sir,

Some of our earliest phone conversations are crystallized in my memories.  These conversations were puzzle pieces that fell neatly into a much bigger picture. I came to cherish them, and I looked forward to each and every one. We burned up the lines with our reciprocated feelings.

Firstly, I remember your voice. It became familiar to me as my own. As a bonus, I recollect your laughter even more. It has been enshrined in my memory all these years. I loved hearing you. I  yearned to hear you. I wanted to make you laugh, because in turn the sound made me laugh; your laugh was very infectious. It was a heady medicine to my soul.

Another memory that stands out among the rest may seem trite, but for some reason it is ingrained into the deep recesses of my mind. I was on the phone with you and I walked into my kitchen. I was wearing heeled boots and you could hear the echo of my footsteps across the kitchen floor. You paused and said with somewhat incredulity, “I can hear you walking.”  You seemed shocked by this revelation. I laughed and made some silly comment like, “Yes I can walk” then did a little impromptu tap dance loud enough for you to hear as well, which made you chuckle in your endearing way. You remarked that hearing me walk made me seem more tangible to you. It touched my heart, which is why I remember this incident so vividly.

Another lasting memory was when I called you up one day crying because a ring of mine went missing, and all evidence seemed to indicate that a neighbor girl had stolen it. Nothing else mattered to you (the significance of the ring, the girl, etc.) except that I was distressed. You didn’t think me foolish crying over a ring. It was the first time you called me baby.  Through my tears I remember mentioning that fact to you. You responded in kind that it just seemed natural to call me that lovely word. It warmed me through and through. (The ring was later found under the washing machine. Catastrophe averted.)

These memories may seem silly to some, but they hold a spot in my heart, and I’ve remembered them for what they stood for – love.  I thank you for them.

Most candidly,

Darling

—————————————————————————————————————————————————-

My Darling

Oh how I remember our phone calls. You call them puzzle pieces I call them exclamation marks! I planned my day around them. I very quickly knew your schedule and how we could successfully interlock our multi hour time differences. You were a young mother and I was a fresh faced starlet in my newly chosen field. We were worlds apart, not only literally but in our world views. It baffles me still but we found common ground, our differences so apparent. But oh how we cared about one another. You were the centre of my world. My days were planned around when I would see you online and even better when I heard your smiling voice.

You always did love my voice, and I loved that you loved it. But while I had only seen you in your pictures, I could still picture your animated face. I could tell when I vexed you, when you expressed mock indignation at some outrageous comment of mine, I knew how you laughed, how you teased, and dare I say how you flirted. Your voice, the sound of your life even, became a vivid connection between us. It happens still; I know the bark of your dog, the sound of your children, the laugh and the babbling of your niece. I don’t remember my comments on your footfalls, but it all rings so true. Yes I would have heard that sound and connected it with you and your life, and by god I know you would have tap danced!

I remember the loss of your ring though. And yes, you are right, the significance of the ring and the alleged thief meant very little to me. What distressed me were your tears and my inability to comfort you in any physical way. I don’t remember calling you “baby,” not on that particular occasion anyway; as you say, it would have just been a natural instinct to do so. I do however know I call you baby still, it is just…..right.

It is quite euphoric to see you talk about this some 16 years after it all happened. That you still think of that time (and me) in such a fond and cherished way amazes me still. You are right it was love and it still very much is. Thank you for reawakening the memories but also for allowing me to no longer suppress my over powering emotions. I love you now like I loved you then, with all my heart.

You Are Still My Darling

From Sir With Love

 

©2013 Darling and Sir

The Virtual Beginning

Dear Sir,

I noticed you right away. You stood out among the crowd. In a world of black and white, your charisma and charm shone through. While most didn’t ‘get me’ you did; consequently, you did from the very onset. Nonverbal communication was no barrier in our minds. You would fire off a remark at me, and I’d fire one back even more caustic; I loved it. Sparring became our thing. We understood each other and my world became very small where you were at the center. I would get a thrill when I knew you were there. I still do.

We exchanged pictures. My eyes drank you in. There you were – a person of flesh and blood captured in 2-D. A man. Real. You seemed surprised that I liked what I saw, although for the life of me I don’t know why. Dare I say I saw a glimmer of hesitancy in your persona? I loved you for that small vein of uncertainty in an otherwise confident human being. It was endearing.

We took our long conversations to a private world where we bothered no one and just enjoyed each others’ humor, intelligence, and sarcasm. I’m not sure who suggested it first, but it was decided that we’d up the ante and move our discussions to the phone. I still remember the first words you said, “Did you think I was going to call?”  I giggled.  I was mesmerized by the richness of your voice. It fit you perfectly.  I couldn’t get enough, and this became the first of many countless calls.

The ball was rolling, and I was helpless to hold it back. I didn’t want to hold it back. I couldn’t hold it back even if I tried. It was beyond me. I was smitten. Thank you for this beautiful memory. I hold it close, and it’s very dear to my heart.

Fervently yours,

Darling

—————————————————————————————————————————-

My Darling

How very strange to be corresponding with you in this manner. I say that not because it isn’t right but because ours was a very modern romance, shaped and formed in the fires of the internet. I too remember our first encounter. You were in my room. A new little want to be who, like so many others, would be quickly made aware of the pecking order. How wrong I was. Oh yes we sparred, how could we not? The contest felt gladiatorial. You were fast, smart, educated and confident. It quickly became apparent that you were a new force to be reckoned with. But instead of a contest I gave you something that few have earned and even less have received, my respect. My room became our room. How could it have been any other way?

I still remember the first image that you sent me. A girl, no a woman, completely at ease with herself, comfortable in her own skin, was now challenging me from afar. Your swim suit may have been black and white but your personality shined through in all its multi coloured brilliance. Now I don’t want you to think it was titillation, although I couldn’t help but notice your womanhood, however the bravado you displayed was no braggadocio. The defiant pose you struck, as you leapt into that lake, was so in keeping with the personality I had come to know that how could it have been anyone other than you?

Yes our private chat was intense as we slowly got to know one another. We probed away expecting to find some weakness or some flaw. I for one have stopped looking. Yes we found every other’s strengths and we found each other’s weaknesses but that only made me love you all the more.

That first call I can still picture in my mind. There I was, all by myself. Sitting, staring, steeling myself to have the courage to pick up that phone. I gulped some water, cleared my throat, placed the instrument of our communication squarely before me and dialled your number. My heart was in my mouth. I was nervous, nervous like a teenager on a first date nervous. You answered and it began. My nerves? You washed them away.

How the ball did roll. I remember nought of what we said. What was important was that you had become a little more real, a little more tangible. Your personality now had a voice, one that I would come to know oh so well over the coming years. I had not said it at the time but I think we both knew how one another felt. Each step along our journey was not to confirm those feelings; they only served to make them all the more real. They are real to me still.

 

You are still my darling.

From Sir With Love

©2013 Darling and Sir

Introduction

Dear Sir,

How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.

While I do not profess to be Mrs. Browning, I feel the essential need to pen my thoughts and feelings to you in these letters. The words may not be eloquent, but they are most definitely from my heart and soul. You know how I feel, and I hope that my words will do their utmost to portray that feeling in the written form.

First know that I love you truly and unconditionally. These intense feelings have never changed since the day we met despite a lot of heartache. Let me apologize in advance for any words I may write that may cause you distress  and hurt, but I will always be candid; I will never be dishonest with you.

Sometimes I may seem disjointed, but that is a testament to how I feel because it isn’t always easy to define the depth and intensity of those feelings. Mere words on a page seem paltry at times, but they serve a modicum of purpose in expressing my love.

I am not even certain that you’ll ever see these letters, but I suspect I might share them  with you at some point. You are a soul mate and kindred spirit. I adore you.

I love you always

Yours most ardently,

Darling

——————————————————————————————————————–

My Darling

It is so humble of you to quote Elizabeth Barrett Browning. You and I both know that you have written your own exquisite poetry and I trust that we may see it grace these pages as this tale unfolds.  Your words are a thing of beauty and I treasure every syllable.

You write of unconditional love and my heart is warmed. I know that love and feel it too. I know the heartache and hurt of which you speak all too well. Much of it I have caused so anything that you feel may be a little too barbed for my allegedly tender ears I entreat you to just let loose. One of your many compelling strengths is your honesty. For you to temper it now would be a crime, especially if its only purpose was to spare my feelings.

When you found me after my years in the wilderness, I was afraid. The feelings that I had shoved down, fought against and ignored came rushing back. I was too much a coward to express them initially. I felt manifestly unworthy, and still do. That however changes nothing. I am unashamedly, unabashedly and unconditionally in love with you my darling. I have waited a long time to tell you again and I fear it will be at least another two decades before the novelty even begins to wear thin.

I see how complete our re connection is. You say that you may share these letters at some point, but you are three entries into our story (if I may call it that?) and already they blink at me innocently from my own computer screen. To make contact again has been astonishing, to be able to tell you how I feel again after all these years has been a blessed release but to have those feelings reciprocated, well I am speechless.

 

You Will Always Be My Darling

From Sir With Love

 

©2013 Darling and Sir