Measure a Year of Love

One year ago today, the world tipped and balanced itself again.

Darling swallowed her trepidation and contacted Sir via text messaging.

The paradigm shift happened at exactly 9:25pm local time for Darling on the 17th of September and at 1:25pm on the 18th of September for Sir.

It has been an extremely emotional journey full of sadness, joy, pain, laughter, tears, forgiveness, and immense love – as any great love story should be. The Sir Letters began shortly thereafter.

Sir so succinctly stated to Darling earlier today, “Happy Anniversary Darling.”

A very happy anniversary indeed, Sir. Amen to that.

So to all our readers and fans do us a favour and smile for us today then pay it forward.

Peace and joy –

Love always,

Darling and Sir

 

©2014 Darling and Sir

 

 

HITACHI

 

 

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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.

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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

I Dreamed a Dream of You, Sir

My Visionary Sir,

Last night I had a dream. I was pulling along my luggage. I wasn’t sure where I was, but I was searching.  I continued to walk around tugging my luggage behind me.

I turned a corner and there you were in a red shirt. I started to talk, but you stopped me. You stepped forward, pulled me into your arms, and held me. We didn’t say a word. You continued to hold me in your embrace. I felt surrounded by your love. I felt joy.

I woke up feeling your presence. You always tell me that you will watch over me as I sleep. You kept your word.

I love you.

Astral-ly yours,
Darling

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My Vision of a Darling

We both know how hard it is to say goodbye when either of us has to go. But when I know you have to head off to teach the next day, for the sake of your sanity and the well being of your students I know I must let you rest. Then begins my long night of waiting. I normally finish work myself about 2 hours after you head off to bed, that as you know offers quite a distraction. Then I wait for another five or six hours to hear from you again. It is my nightly vigil. I think of you constantly.

If I am with friends I tell them all about you, incessantly. If I am alone I turn to our blog. I even started playing the song I had started writing you for the first time in months. From 12,000 kilometers away there is little I can do. But you are constantly in my thoughts. I am honoured to be in your dreams.

I love you too my Darling, very much.

You Will Always Be My Darling

From Sir With Love

©2014 Darling and Sir

Nurse!

My Dear Contagious Sir,

I know you’re feeling poorly right now. I think stress pounded your immune system and it finally succumbed. You’re putting on a brave face by giving interviews, managing staff, and cleaning up executive muck. You’re a force to be reckoned with.

I’ve been worried about you. I feel like a mother hen asking you if you’ve slept well, have taken medicine, eaten, and other questions about your health. I will always be concerned for you.

That being said, I told you the other day that I would still kiss you even with a communicable malady. You responded, “You wouldn’t have any choice.” I laughed, because I realized there wasn’t anything wrong with your silver tongue. It assured me that you’re on the mend.

Anxiously yours,

Darling

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Darling You’d Make A Great Nurse.

You worry too much. I have man flu. Mere mortals call them common colds, but because I am a man it is far worse (smiles).

Yes I have been a little off, not sleeping enough, probably drinking a bit more than I have for quite some time, eating out too much because I don’t have time to cook healthy meals, not getting much exercise and working excessive hours. Plus I am no longer 25 and ten feet tall and bullet proof. I am somewhat older now and only eight feet tall and bullet resistant.

It will pass and I will repair. As for kissing you? While I ache to do so, I would not wish to infect you. I am all talk my Darling. I would hate to make you sick.

Infectiously Yours

From Sir With Love

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

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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

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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

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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