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

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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

Knock Knock

My Dearest Amusing Sir,

I still remember your first joke to me. Well I thought it was a pick-up line, but we’ll call it a joke here.

Sir: You look like you have a little Aussie in you.

Darling: Umm no.

Sir: Well do you want some?

Then you laughed hysterically while I heard in my head “Ba-da-bing.”

Shockingly yours,

Darling

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My Bemused Darling

I cringe to see those words on the page, they appear so coarse. I can’t however deny them as the first time I visited your country (and long before I knew you) I used them to great affect.

I do have a penchant for shocking, I take a sly pleasure in moving people out of their comfort zone and watching them react.

I like to hide any pretense of refinement and learning and see what level of bigotry and poor behaviour is on offer.

I am sure I just said it to shock you.

My work here is done.

You Will Always be My Darling

From Sir With Love

©2014 Darling and Sir

Two Lovers On a Day of Amore

My Sweet Romantic Sir,

I love them. Thank you so much. You know my style; you know me.

Happy Valentine’s Day, Sir. I love you.

Always yours,

Darling

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My Dear Darling

I very much love you and the pleasure is all mine.

Happy Valentine’s Day to you too.

Thinking of you from 12,000 kilometres away.

You Will Always Be My Darling

From Sir With Love

©2014 Darling and Sir

Do The Shake

Dear Socially Conscious Sir,

I don’t know where we were, but we were travelling through the Hunter Valley. We had many adventures. We stopped at some dive I think to get fuel, and they had a small dining area inside. I remember you showing me these meat pies and told me to try one. I couldn’t decide between two, so you bought both and we shared.

We were sitting at a table in contented silence sharing our grub when in walked a rather large family. I don’t mean they had a lot of children. I mean factually – they were extremely rotund. I recall two teenage children. They ordered a massive amount of food and dug in. They heartily enjoyed their meals. The boy had a milkshake. He ate that milkshake with relish. I have never – before or since – seen someone enjoy a milkshake as much as that burly boy.

The boy had his head tipped back, the milkshake glass up to his mouth trying to get every last luscious drop. He literally licked the rim and insides of the glass with his pink tongue as he closed his eyes. His hand was tapping the bottom of the glass to hurry the trickle. He was in some state of sugar bliss.

His sister told him it was time to leave. The boy had trouble putting down the glass. The parents had already walked out, expecting their children to follow. The sister was insisting that her brother put down the glass and leave with her. He pushed his chair back, stood up, started to follow his sister but came back twice to tip that milkshake container to his lips. He appeared crestfallen that he had to leave when there might be a drop or two of his sweet treat left in the glass.

We watched the boy in complete awe during his love affair with that milkshake. I glanced at your face; derision and scorn were etched in your features. You were aghast at his behavior. I started giggling at the look on your face. You stated, “I thought he was going to cry leaving that glass.” I laughed even harder.

I can’t even recall if we finished our food. You mentioned that you think your appetite had vanished due to the lick-love-fest we had just witnessed. We did not order a milkshake. I think we should have in honor of true milkshake love.

I can’t even talk about it with you now without falling into fits of laughter. I can still see the boy, his look of longing, and your face full of disgust. Good times love, good times.

Lickably yours,

Darling

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My Chocolate Malted Darling

We were in the town of Cessnock when we encountered this sideshow (now may not be the time to mention that you and the mayor of that town developing quite an affinity so I will leave that for another letter). It was a dodgy eatery where we had stopped. I have no idea why. It’s not like I would have taken you to many second rate establishments. No doubt it filled a need. The meat pies of which you speak are a staple part of the Australian diet. Sad I know, but most of our signature food comes in snack form with pies being the preeminent example.

That family was big, really big. I think you are being too kind in describing them as just rotund. They were enormous. They were so large if they remained stationary they would be issued a postcode (that’s a zip code in your American parlance). They moved like one globulous mass. If ever the expression “built for comfort not for speed” were to be employed, it would be for the benefit of these guys.

I remember the boy a little differently than you though. I don’t think he was yet a teenager. He was just so big he looked like a teenager. He was humungous.  In fact I would go so far to say that he was probably taller lying down than he was standing up.

Boy oh boy he sure loved that milkshake. He inhaled it. In fact the milkshake disappeared so quickly that the only way you could hope to consume it more quickly would be to surgically enhance your mouth and esophagus. That guy had suction. To steal a famous movie line….”he could suck start a leaf blower.” Man if he wasn’t so young you would have been well within your rights to describe his actions as “lightning fellatio.”

He was heartbroken to leave. He and that milkshake glass had developed quite a bond. I think he had visions that it may become a basket of plenty, where if he returned enough times it may magically refill. Sadly that was not to be the case, but it was not for want of trying.

It was hysterical I know. We laughed and laughed about it. On more than one occasion we would look at one another, smile, and then burst into fits of giggles. Without saying a word we both knew it was the “Milkshake Kid” that had tipped us over the edge. They were good times my love, very good times. Let’s do them again.

Inhalingly Yours

From Sir With Love

©2014 Darling and Sir

I Know Why

My Dear Love – Sir,

I sent you this song a while back. The song hurt my heart with its beautiful, haunting words and melody. I knew I had to send it to you if you. I wondered if you had heard it before; you informed me you hadn’t.

I closed my eyes, listened to the words of this song, and I let myself remember us – how we were before it all turned upside down. This poignant song makes me ache for you.

There is one thing I do know though; I know why I love you. I just do, because you’re you – you’re my Sir. As the song says, I was afraid of loving you again, but the truth is I never stopped. You have my heart. Please keep it safe.

Shawn Colvin – I Don’t Know Why

Always yours,
Darling

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My Loving Darling

You amaze me with the music you pick. Some if it has very quickly made its way it in to my repertoire.  I feel this will be another.

I didn’t really connect with it much the first time you sent it. Let me say that has now changed. I love this song.

It is overwhelming to hear that you love me still and that you feel you never stopped. I know I always carried a torch for you. It is earth shattering to me that I can tell you it now. I never thought I would again have the chance.

As for your heart, well it is safe. I am not prone to making the same mistake twice, especially one of this enormity. I love you my Darling with all my heart.

You Will Always Be My Darling

From Sir With Love

©2014 Darling and Sir

Nocturnal Glow

My Dear Romantic Sir,

We recently discussed our sojourn in Jenolan and The Caves House. It is a stunning, majestic place made all the more magical because I was there with you. I dream of returning there with you one day.

I had hinted about another tender moment that happened in Jenolan in our letter ‘Wake Up Call.’ We showered and dressed for dinner. We dined in the beautiful restaurant. I remember there were candles on our table that set a romantic ambiance for the evening. You were staring at me over the candlelight. A waiter came up and congratulated us. You asked him why he was congratulating us. He responded that it had been a while since he had seen newlyweds so obviously in love. I sat there in astonishment. You corrected him and informed him that we were not married (yet). He didn’t believe us. You studied me intently over the flicking light and said to the waiter, “You are right. She is absolutely glowing.” I know I blushed (you pointed that out too). The waiter smiled at me and left.

Over dinner you made a few more remarks about my glowing status. I shined, dear Sir, because I was radiating what I felt for you. Our love made me shine, and I burned under the intensity of your loving gaze. I can’t recall a time when your gaze was never more intense filling me with joy and promise and never-ending love. I saw my future in your eyes.

We finished our dinner and went for a walk in the twilight. As we were leaving, the waiter caught my eye and grinned. I blushed and smiled in return. I was on the arm of the man I loved who made me feel like I was the only woman in the world, and I was happy.

Incandescently yours,

Darling

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My Luminescent Darling

Jenolan Caves is a place of stunning beauty. There are the caves of course; there is the amazing bush setting, the gorgeous Jenolan River and the tranquil Blue Lake. Caves House (even when on a downward slide) is a gorgeous building, the spacious old school rooms, the massive dining area with the stunning carved mahogany sideboard. It all paled into insignificance when I looked across the candlelit table to you. You were gorgeous; I couldn’t take my eyes off you.

I do remember the waiter commenting on our wedded bliss. For the life of me I don’t know why I corrected him. There was nothing more I wanted in the world right then than to be your husband. You shone. I remember how ill you were after the twisty and somewhat treacherous drive to the bottom. I was concerned for your well being. Well the fresh mountain air certainly acted as a restorative. You were positively radiant. I remember our after dinner walk. There was a little moonlight and the limestone rock face glowed an ethereal blue under its aura. I recall being mesmerised by your face, how beautiful it looked in this most haunting nocturnal light. That evening as we strolled alone in contented silence I was so very much in love with you my Darling, just as I am right now.

You say you would like to return there with me one day. Let’s do it tomorrow. I will send a ticket.

Your Besotted Husband In Waiting

From Sir With Love

©2014  Darling and Sir

Taint Nick

My Desirable Darling

We have spoken quite candidly about my dalliances with the opposite sex. You took enormous pleasure dissecting it in nauseating detail when you visited these shores. I could never accuse you of the same thing, your behaviour has always been unimpeachable. That being said there have been quite a few men in your life who have fallen for you, fallen for you hard. Some of these men I’d known about and some have been more recent. There is one man in particular (and I so hope that you’re cringing right now, just not too much) who I find both appalling and offensive. That being said without him you may have never found me, so for that I owe him my undying gratitude. His motives were far from pure but regardless his attempts to manipulate the process were for nought and you are I are together once more, even if it is only a cyber together.

So let me begin his character assassination. He is a minor league English DJ who has a great face for radio. You sent me a lovely picture of him in a giant purple onesie, and it haunts me to this day. You know I want to share it just because something that funny should not be kept to oneself.  In the past he has treated you in the most despicable manner and even threatened innocent members of your family. He has done things that have negatively impacted your job. He has tried to manipulate you and lied to you by omission. When you have appeared on his radio show (improving it immeasurably I might add), he has humiliated you and disrespected you all while trying to be a complete control freak and telling untruths about you. This was all done in the interest of making him appear to be superior. In my opinion he is so low he would need a parachute to exit a snakes belly.

He is clearly madly in love with you, and for that I can’t fault him. However, you have made it entirely clear to him that you don’t see him as a prospective suitor, but that has not stopped him from behaving in a petulant, juvenile and puerile manner. The fact that he is married with children (one of whom is a newborn) seems to be irrelevant to him. When you crushed his amorous desires he staged a mini mid life crisis, bleached his hair then posted pictures of himself with his depressed face on hoping to garner some sympathy. Quite frankly he is pathetic. I know you have forgiven him for his past actions. You are however a better person than I.

I know that the children in your charge benefit from your relationship with him. I also know that you enjoy your time on air with him. I don’t feel in the least bit threatened by him. I just hate the way he treats you. I know you have run rings him around and have swatted him like an over zealous mosquito on more than one occasion. That being said when he described you as being “tainted” because of your relationship with me that was when I decided I could tolerate this imbecile no more. I would not give him the steam off my piss on a cold winter’s morning.

I have often said you can’t help who you fall in love with and I suppose the reverse is also true; you can’t help who falls in love with you. But any guy who describes you as tainted is both a clown and a fool. With a name like Nick I can only assume that his father thought of it when he cut himself shaving. I can only conclude by saying that him having a name synonymous with a gash could not have been more apt.

Taintingly Yours

From Sir With Love

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My Sweet Piqued Sir,

I just love you. This topic does make me cringe, but since you feel so inclined I will go along with you.

It is true. My British friend encouraged me to find you again to get closure. He pushed and persuaded me for months. I felt so vulnerable. I was scared because I truly thought you’d never want to hear from me again. He knows how I wrestled with the notion of contacting you. Maybe I disclosed too much to him, but it’s a moot point now.

He had his own agenda, of course. He wanted to be the one who found and contacted you; he said it was to protect me. Obviously he was not the one who found you. He was infuriated to hear that not only did I find you myself, but I also got in touch with you and we started communicating.

I was startled to discover his loathing of you. It seemed so silly. I was astonished to learn that it began over 14 years ago. I met him right after you and I ended. He heard firsthand of my hurt and pain. As you know he hasn’t been very kind in his words and attitude towards you. He hated you, because he was jealous. That surprised me. His exact words are, “He gave up what I want.” He’s said more, but it’s not important.

Things ended badly 14 years ago with him, but not because he and I were an item. It was due to his behavior. When I confronted him about it, he exploded and threatened members of my family. That was a huge no-no. You of course know the story. While I’m not proud of what I did in retaliation, it served a purpose. He paid the price for a couple of years. I can be quite ruthless when pressed. I know that comes as a surprise considering how shy and demure I am (haha). I don’t like the hypocrisy in his thinking that it’s okay for me to forgive him but not you. Lame I know.

He and I also had a stretch when we were not in contact with each other. When he first made an effort to get in touch with me again, it was with a very apologetic email asking for forgiveness. When I met him he was on his first marriage. He was on his second marriage at the time he reconnected with me, and now he is on his third; I will not be number four. I naturally forgave him, but we didn’t become friendly for years. We were acquaintances who emailed once or twice a year.

I have my boundaries set. I am not some territory for him to piss around to try and mark or a possession to be owned. He knows not to cross them, or there will be consequences. I honestly think it was more of a silent contest with you. He is in some weird alpha-male competition with you. Odd I know, but that’s how I see it. He has told me that you were his biggest fear – whatever that means. My favorite thing is when he told me that because you and I had been lovers, I am now tainted. Yeah that was endearing. I am proud to be tainted, Sir. Damn proud.

Bewilderingly yours,

Darling

©2014 Darling and Sir

Stupid With a Capital S

Click The Greeting To Hear Darling Read Her Letter

My Dear Captivating Sir,

There are times when you whisper sweet nothings or my name and say the most romantic things to me, and it makes me Stupid beyond measure. I can’t think. And when you speak to me in your husky morning voice, oh my have mercy. The memories it evokes are many, and my hands become sweaty. I can barely speak, and I’m just short of stuttering. I lose my train of thought easily. When I get that way, it makes you laugh which in turn makes me laugh. I’ve even announced “I’ve just gone stupid.” I daresay you love it (as do I).

At the times when my mind goes blank from your words, we just sit there in silence – just feeling each other – and the connection between us grows stronger. The love is very apparent. I feel the smile in your very being and it stretches across the ocean and permeates me. I picture your glowing eyes.

So forgive me for my many moments of stupidness. It’s all your fault you know.

Stutteringly yours,

Darling

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Click The Greeting To Hear Sir Read His Reply

My Most Intelligent Darling

I have enormous trouble believing that you would ever become stupid. You are a feisty, opinionated and smart woman! Those are just some of the many reasons why I love you so.

You too have your own sultry morning voice. I hear you when you awake. My pulse quickens and many virile thoughts gallop through my mind. Plus there is that urgent need to tickle you just as you reach the pinnacle of your morning stretch.

I am pleased I can make you speechless my Darling. I assume that’s why you keep quoting Lord Grantham from Downton Abbey at me? “I blame you.” A cruel man would say that I do it as the only possible means to stop you from talking. I am not a cruel man therefore I so love to hear the sound of your voice.

Eloquently Yours

From Sir With Love

©2014 Darling and Sir

Touchy Feely

My Dear Sir,

Do you remember how often my hands would stray to your hair? I couldn’t help myself. I loved running my fingers through it. I was always waiting for you to tell me that I did it too much; you never did though. You never complained once.

Many times while you were playing the piano for me, I would get up and stand behind you at the bench. I would massage your shoulders and neck. My fingers played with your hair. I rubbed your ears. I loved touching you. I was constantly doing it. You’d lean your head back against my shoulder and close your eyes while playing. That’s when I’d kiss your forehead and face.

My hand would wander to the back of your neck while in the car as well. It was very calming to me to touch you while driving during a long, barren stretch of road. As you stated in “Driving” your hand was always on my knee. I think we found comfort in touching each other.

There were also the few times my hand found its way to your hair during dinner if we were sitting next to each other as opposed to across the table. You’d always take my hand in yours after a while and start to kiss it while staring into my eyes. Good grief Mr. Sir you would make me melt. I can still feel your lips on my fingertips.

It’s a wonder we ever left our rooms, but I suppose we needed to eat once in a while. Oh, and get some fresh air. I wasn’t worried about the exercise though; we got plenty of that.

Lovingly and touchingly yours always,

Darling

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My Tactile Darling

I do remember how much you touched me. It was a thrill every time. From that first hug at the airport, to holding your hand in the cab on the way home to our first kiss in my home later that evening. Oh how we touched.

When I played the piano? Well I am not sure how I restrained myself and if truth be told on more than one occasion I clearly did not. Your hand in my hair was the most devilish distraction. How could I hope to play?

My hand on your leg whilst driving? I could not forget that. I remember the first time I did it you exclaimed that you may not be able to concentrate. I didn’t move it an inch. It remained firmly in place for our entire time together. Your hand running through my hair as we drove; well I remember that as well. Its a wonder we even made it out my driveway.

I think what I loved best though about touching you in public (I trust you note the distinction I have made here) was holding your hand and staring into your eyes. I was like a man drowning in a sea of ecstasy.

I long to touch you again; to hold you, smell you, taste you and love you. 

I can still feel you now.

You Will Always Be My Darling

From Sir With Love

©2013 Darling and Sir

©2013 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

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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