Rejoining The World

My Dearest Darling

As you are no doubt most painfully aware I went on to marry the woman whom I abandoned you for. It turned out to be an unmitigated disaster. My divorce was as acrimonious as you could make it. I was the recipient of a number of physical threats from people I believe to be family and friends of my ex wife.  

While all of this was happening I was forced to wind up a business that had my ex wife as a director as I was not in a position to buy her out. I had left my chosen field some years earlier so could not easily return to it at the same level at which I departed. For a small period, while settling up the affairs of my failed marriage, I looked to be without a home or a job. Now I don’t want to make that sound overly dramatic. I was not going to be homeless or unemployed. I was just left with a little time to kill before I could move on with my life. I decided that I would spend six weeks with my aging mother.

Well we both know that six weeks turned into six years. I reorganised my life to care for her. It was not really until her death, four days shy of her 90th birthday, that I was able to give serious consideration to what I would now do with my own life. I was now living in a modest country town. What were once vineyards and dairy farms are now coal mines and power generating plants. I no longer had a business and any semblance of a career was now in shreds. I had taken work well below my station, as it was the only available where I now resided, and I was many hours away from a substantial urban centre where I could hope to re-establish my life.

My mother had left a small inheritance and so I decided that I would use that money to strike out in a new direction, even if it was an old familiar path. I decided to try and establish, once more, a career in music. It was something I had always enjoyed but, for reasons that were never really clear to me, I had given it up to pursue seemingly more lofty goals. I have never had delusions of rock stardom, or classical grandeur. I am at my happiest just playing the piano, in a convivial room, surrounded by the vibe of dynamic people all having a great time.

With that in mind and with the need to drag myself kicking and screaming into the 21st century I went into a recording studio to play some demo tracks. I also engaged a professional videographer to shoot some footage allowing me to put together a number of professional film clips by way of introduction to my services.  So in late December of 2012, I recorded eight tracks of me playing various styles of piano music. In mid January of 2013, I shot the video. Then not long after I had my show reels and anyone with an internet connection could find me.

Why am I telling you all of this? Well after my withdrawal from the world I had made myself quite difficult to find. I knew that I would have to remove the veil so to speak. I was putting myself out there for the entire world to see. I consoled myself with one quite simple fact, Darling can now find me. I know it sounds ridiculous. We had not spoken in close to 14 years. But even after all that time I was still thinking of you.

The story is now yours to tell. I do have to say however that the time and money I spent producing those tracks and those videos were the best I’ve ever spent in my life. Why? Because without them you may never have found me. I love you my Darling. I always have. Thank you. Thank you for your forgiveness, your understanding and most of all your love. But thank you also for still searching after all of these years and for having the courage to send that first text message which has drawn us so inextricably together once more.


You Will Always Be My Darling

From Sir With Love


My Sweet Sir,

Sometimes I cannot wrap my head around the belief that you still thought of me, since you were the one who ended everything. It’s not that I don’t believe what you say – of course I do – it’s just that I had believed the opposite for so long that I don’t know how to change my thought process. I suppose it will take time.

I felt (and still feel) anger and sadness in knowing that you gave up playing the piano for such a long time because of your unhappiness. You told me that your ex wife used to present you like a show pony, and that it turned you off to play. That makes me ill. What a waste of a beautiful talent; consequently, I am ecstatic that you’ve resumed your playing. The world deserves to hear your gift. The fact that your published your videos on the web with even the slightest thought that I could possibly find you – astounds me completely.

I know I had sporadic thoughts of you over the years, but they were so painful I didn’t dwell on them. If memory serves, during our last phone call I believe you informed me that you had moved. You didn’t offer your new contact information, nor did I ask for it. Your purposeful intent didn’t go unnoticed; you didn’t want me to have it. I had my pride.

I know I put your name in an online search engine in the past 2 or so years, but I didn’t look very deeply. I was too scared to, so it was just a superficial, cursory search. Even if by chance I had found you, I do not believe that I would have acted upon it at the time.

I briefly mentioned in the letter Vicariously Yours, the path that led me to you. I will quote from it now:

I found you quite unexpectedly. I sat and stared at the web page not daring to believe it was really you; it was my Sir (although I would never have dared to address you as my Sir). I found videos of you playing the piano. My heart constricted and held tight. I couldn’t breathe. I clicked play and was instantly transported to years gone by. I replayed it over and over again. I searched your face. I drank in your hands and your fingers. I stared at your hair remembering how it lay against your neck. I didn’t know how to feel or think. I didn’t know what to say or do. I kept any real emotions under strict lock and key.  I felt a myriad of sensations -a vortex that spun my world around and kicked my feet out from under me.
Then I found those numbers. They mocked me from the page. There was a way to contact you! Was it really that simple? In today’s world I could text you. Did I want to? I was so confused. I purposely did not react for days. After the reality set it, I concluded that I wasn’t scared to contact you anymore. I had disassociated from that emotion. Once I realized and accepted that schism, I was ready.

So my dear Sir, you stated you felt that organizing and producing those videos were worth it, because they made it possible for me to locate you. Your instinct was spot on. I can never fully express how seeing you made me feel. I know relief was one of the bigger emotions.

Here we are taking it one day at a time. Hold my hand, Sir, hold my hand.

Adoringly yours,


©2013 Darling and Sir

Short clips of Sir’s piano videos will be posted on Christmas Day (United States time)!



In The Blink of an Eye

Dear Sir,

You’ve told me numerous times one of the reasons you ditched me was because you no longer believed in us. In my head, I think proximity was a big part of your thinking. I was across the ocean. She was there. You could have sex with her; so you did. Then once you made your bed, you decided to lie in it completely. End of story.

What I have trouble with is when you’ve told me that you tried to make her into me. You talked to her like she was me, which obviously didn’t go well at all. How could it? You’ve said to me, “She wasn’t you Darling.” To which I want to respond, “And your first clue was?” She wasn’t and isn’t me. She sounds like my polar opposite, which just dumbfounds me that you ended up married to her. At the risk of sounding conceited, I cannot be replaced – ever. She never could have been me, and it galls me that you even tried.

One thing that hurts a lot is that you married her in “our” place. I remember your message telling me that little factoid. I guess telling me over the phone was too hard; plus we were just beginning to talk again. This actually isn’t a criticism. It’s just how it played out.

I am not even sure how to report to you about how I’m handling all this news to date. In the beginning it was information overload and it made my head spin: you married “her,” you were unhappy, your marriage was a farce, she was an alcoholic, she loved being wealthy and spending your money, she disliked your parents, she was unfaithful, her family was/is crazy, you knew on your wedding day that you married the wrong woman, you regretted letting me go, I was “the one who got away.”

That last one made me raise my eyebrow. I didn’t “get away.” You pushed me away, and that still hurts. It hurts us both. I should be happy to hear this after all these years, but I don’t feel happy about it all. I want to say, “Well you got what you deserved,” but did I? Did I deserve it too? I believed you. I missed out on having you in my life even as a friend. I missed your larger-than-life personality. I missed you. And that sucks.

I never realized how fast fourteen and a half years could go by.

Forlornly yours,



My Dear Sad Darling

I was not sure that there was an “us” anymore my sweet. The space that “we” occupied had become empty. That is not an excuse just an observation. I could have easily found out, I just didn’t.

Proximity may have played a part, but I think availability was the critical factor. I can honestly say that I did not pursue, woo or in any way try to attract “her.”  She quite literally threw herself at me.

I was devastated by what I had done. I was no longer worthy of you or your love. Yes I tried to turn her into you. There was not a chance that would happen. She was not you. I was just lying to myself and trying to distract myself from the reality of my awful deed. You could never be replaced. I knew that. I knew there would never be another you, so I didn’t really care who I was with. They would always run a very poor second.

Having said all that, after it all went pear shaped my desire for affection, to feel love, to give love, to share love, became almost ghost like. You have made much of my many previous partners, my tally has barely been added to. This has occurred for a variety of reasons, not least however by the fact that I barely tried to engage.

Yes I threw away 14 plus years of us, both as friends and lovers. I can’t give those back to either of us, despite it being my most fervent wish. I want to cry out that we should make the most of now and the future. You however are not a point to embrace that for reasons that are self evident. If and when you are, I will be here. I like to think that I learn from my mistakes.

Devotedly Yours

From Sir With Love

©2013 Darling and Sir

Memories and Mementos

To My Distant Darling

As you remember, if somewhat sporadically, when you departed these fair shores you left behind some physical, tangible and dare I say personal mementos of our time together. Also prior to our meeting, you and I had also exchanged a number of gifts, none of which sadly remain in my possession. Along with the photos recording our time together and of course my own most vivid memories, that is how I remembered you.

You had sent me a jacket, which never fitted properly. I never told you because I didn’t want to hurt your feelings. It was eventually donated to a goodwill store and hopefully someone derived much pleasure and good use from it. You had sent me a shot glass emblazoned with the face of Eric Cartman of South Park, a favourite TV show of mine at the time. I remember you feeling quite risqué then for even purchasing such an item, especially in view of the strict religious nature of your upbringing and the conservative sensibilities of the town in which you lived. We both know how, years later, I ended up losing that token of our love with my then wife (whom I married after meeting you) breaking it in an “accidentally on purpose” manner because she knew of its provenance.

But after you departed I had so few ways in which to remember you. I was tidying things up after that most hideous day. It was the last time I saw you.  The last time I held you. The last time I smelled you, and the last time I kissed you. It was the day that damn Qantas jet took you from my life. Well as I tidied I found your vibrant purple pyjamas. I can remember how raw my emotion was on that day. You had just left and I was desolate. I just sat down on the bed and held them; I buried my face into them and drank in your fragrance. Then I lay down on the bed clinging to them, wishing they were you but knowing they were not. I wept.

At the time they were my most potent reminder of you. I have told you how I would place them gently on my spare bed and lay down next to them and think of you. For many years they were permeated with your scent. Sadly your fragrance depleted over time and I nearly lost them all together when my now ex wife found where they were hidden. We both know she was far from blameless in this story. You were the one variable over which she had no control. She knew that if one woman could steal me away it would be you. I never told her that I thought I would never hear from you again after what I had done and that she needn’t have worried. I took some perverse pleasure in knowing that she was threatened by you. That tale will no doubt will come forth in all its sordid glory as our story unfolds.

You also left a candle which I know you had completely forgotten about until I reminded you. It will appear twice more in this narrative, once when we stayed at Katoomba and again on the day you made contact again after all those years. But let’s save that for another time.


You Will Always be My Darling

From Sir With Love


Dear Sir,

I must admit that I hid all the memories of you which included anything tangible. They were just too painful to see, and it was more than I wanted to bear. Talking about them has been very liberating and poignant. I am so happy that we can share these memories.

I must also confess that I had forgotten that I sent you a jacket. The knowledge that you hid from me for years that you didn’t keep it due to a poor fit has filled me with much mirth. How gallant of you to try to spare my feelings over it. I am just sorry that I bought and sent you such an unworthy article of clothing. My intentions were good. I can’t even remember what it looks like!  I have considered expressing mock indignation, but the situation is just too comical, not to mention I could never get away with that emotion with you much to my chagrin.

While I may not remember the infamous jacket, I do remember that darn Cartman shot glass (I didn’t even know what South Park was, and I had never watched an episode). I searched far and wide for such a trinket to send you. I felt rather devious and daring when I found it. I knew you’d love it. It saddens me that your ex-wife felt so threatened by a material object especially since I was before her time. What did Cartman ever do to her?

I also remember sending you monogrammed handkerchiefs. I was thrilled to know a man who carried handkerchiefs in a modern day and age. It made you even more dashing to me than you already were. You sent me home with a washed and ironed handkerchief the day I left you. You instinctively knew I would shed copious tears as I flew home. As you know, that handkerchief was one of the things I recently discovered and you heard the disbelief and joy when I found it.

I am still incredulous regarding my purple pajamas. When you disclosed to me that you still have them, my heart cracked. That was, of course, during our first text exchange. The disbelief still haunts me.  You got married after me. You made a life for yourself. I was forsaken. You chose to let me go, yet you clung to something that was a mere insignificant reminder of me. The irony is not lost, and I struggle with that knowledge to this day.

The candle is something you have had to tell me about, as I lost all memory of it. Your initial pun was clever though (your story to tell, not mine).

Ardently yours,


©2013 Darling and Sir