Cate B

Dear Darling and Sir,

First of all, I hope you are both well. I want you to know that I enjoy reading your letters and am feeling quite privileged to be a part of your relationship. Thank you for sharing.

But I do have one question. When will you two get together permanently? It troubles my imaginative mind that your romantic relationship, with all the normal ups and downs that all couples go through, is separated by such a vast distance geographically.

This is not good. I realize the logistics can be challenging. Who will give up family and culture and jobs to make the big plunge? It troubles me. Have I become too involved? I am for you both. I am for the Darling and Sir to become a family in every sense of the word (Sirling or Darsir). Is it too soon to answer this for me? Must I wait for all the letters to be posted?

I have now asked five questions.I wait with anticipation to know the outcome of The Sir Letters.

Patiently (sort of) yours,

Cate B
(Lets have Another Piece of Pie)


Dear Cate

Before I even begin to answer your question I must first say thank you for taking the plunge and joining us in this little diversion for The Sir Letters. It’s truly great that some of our regular commenters are now becoming guest correspondents.

That is the big question that you ask Cate. When will Darling and I get together permanently? Life has gotten in the way, and we don’t know at this point. 

But let’s speculate and assume that it were to happen. In terms of who would give up what? Well I would. At the risk of making this story any sadder than it needs to be, I have no parents, no siblings, no spouse and no children. The only commitments I have are friends and a job, breaking those ties would be relatively easy.

You most certainly have not become too involved. You are an active part of our little community and you are not the first to ask such a question, similar references are scattered throughout our comments. I am fatalist while Darling is an optimist. I believe I already know the answer though, if truth be told, our story quite literally is still unfolding. This story will come to an end, certainly the blog part of it. Our final letter may still be quite unsatisfying though, because we may not have an answer (either way) but the story of our love will be told and all that may be left is an empty hole, with our lost time together our testimony.

As for giving the two us one name (Brangelina anyone?) I am somewhat horrified and quietly flattered all in the same breath. I fear your anticipation may remain however, but thank you Cate for taking the time to write.

With Warmest Regards



Hi Cate,

I agree with Sir in that you asked the difficult question.

Sir is correct in saying that I am an optimist. I do not believe that we found each other again by chance. I trust that most everything happens in life for a reason, but I don’t have answers yet.

I wasn’t even fully aware of what my feelings for Sir were when I first contacted him. I knew I cared. I knew I hurt. I knew that my genuine concern for his welfare overpowered my hurt. I know that he has dealt with the knowledge and feelings better than I have. Although I don’t voice it as often as I used to (to Sir), but this whole thing is still a head trip for me. I truly never thought I’d ever have contact with him again.

I’ll be honest here Cate, I deleted some of Sir’s response to you, because reading it physically hurt me.

And while I find Sir’s gallantry endearing in saying he’ll give up his world to come to me, that would most certainly not be set in stone. I prefer to think we’d be a dual-country couple.

What I can say with assuredness is that I love Sir, and my life is richer and fuller with him in it. I see Sir the way I have always seen him, and he is just beginning to understand that.

A big heartfelt thanks to you Cate for being our first correspondence. It is an honor to know you.

My best,




My Dear Sir,

I’ve worked hard, and I’ve accomplished many goals throughout my life. I feel completely confident in myself. I’ve earned degrees and awards that are held in high esteem in certain academic circles. I’ve carved out a satisfied niche for myself, but I’ve paid the price for it. That being said, I have just come to realize and recognize something that I need to face. I feel insecure with you, and it’s not a comfortable place to be.

Realistically I understand why I feel this way, but it’s bothering me. I hate that I feel this way. I am almost reluctant to express these emotions. It’s like I have a pebble in my shoe and no matter what I do, I can’t find the source.

I can promise you that I will do everything I can to get over this feeling. It’s vital that I do. I am sorry for yet another flaw in my character.




My Dear Troubled Darling

It pains me greatly to be talking about this. In the fourteen plus years since we last spoke you have done truly astounding things and have much to be proud of. I am a little sad that I was not there to witness your ascent to the summit of those dizzy heights, but I can assure you that it did not surprise me at all to learn of your achievements. Those lofty peaks are where you rightly belong.

To hear you say you feel insecure; well I both understand and I am a little perplexed. I understand because you can only measure me by my actions, which we both know have been far from acceptable. Where I become a little perplexed is that you were the one who reached out to me. I yearned to speak to you again, but I felt I had no right; I was without courage. In the brief time we have been reacquainted, our feelings have become overwhelming and while I cannot deny or hide from my past your insecurity confounds a little.

The pebble in your shoe? I think I know its cause. The last time we spoke, and I mean in 1999, it was me informing you that I had moved on and was with another woman, one whom I went on to disastrously marry. I had no feelings for her previous to this but I know my actions spoke volumes. There are various women in my life now, all of whom I now know platonically and in some cases professionally. There is one with whom I have had a relationship, another who is desperately seeking a relationship and another sending quite mixed messages on the subject. One is married and another in a serious relationship, both institutions you know I respect. The one I did date, well what can I say but we were a failure as a couple. Another is quite a bit younger than me, plus I have received some fairly direct and at other times rather ambiguous texts from these women.  I have relayed all of this to you because that’s the nature of our relationship. I tell you everything. 

It didn’t dawn on me when you first told me about your insecurity that this might be the cause. Sadly though from your perspective I can see that it would be a powerful trigger. Here I am in another country, there are women who may or may not be expressing an interest in me, I have denied any intent but all of your old memories come flooding back.

I am not to going to ply you with empty words but I will say two things to you. Firstly you know I am in a position to literally drop everything and be with you in a day. We have both agreed that I will not do that for reasons which will not be divulged. If however you change your mind, just send me a signal and I am there. I will purchase an open ended ticket right now and await your consent.

Secondly, while I know you understand the work I have put in to establish these professional arrangements, I will end them tomorrow with no questions asked if that will assuage your fears.

I stupidly gave you up last time for quite inexcusable reasons. I will not make the same mistake twice.

With Quiet Determination

From Sir With Love

P.S. Yes I would like you to get over this feeling but in no way known is your character flawed.

©2013 Darling and Sir


Dear Sir,

When I first met you, I was not in a good place.  My safety net had torn. I didn’t know who I was any more. I was hurting and struggling in every aspect of my life.

I was grieving very deeply over the loss of a close family member. My head and heart were still dealing with that as well as some atrocities that happened to another innocent person in my life. What was once strong was crumbling and tumbling down around my head.  I was barely hanging on.  The only time I felt unburdened was when I could escape to chat and forget for a short time. I’ll admit it wasn’t the healthiest way to cope, but it was a brief reprieve before returning to my painful reality.

I found you. I began to trust you, and little by little I shared my life with you. Granted I shared it in bits and pieces as to not overwhelm you. I suppose I was testing you in a way; consequently, I wanted to know what you could handle. I was waiting for you to run the other way. You never did though. You stood strong.

I confided in you some very raw parts of me about my past and my present. Neither of them painted a pretty picture. At the risk of sounding macabre, most people couldn’t imagine my trials much less go through them. I didn’t act or consider myself a victim even though I felt so alone. I had family, yes, but at that time they were part of the problem. I didn’t generally confide in people, but I found such an empathetic, listening ear in you – a partner. My cup runneth over and you willingly shared my burdens.

Then at the pinnacle of our relationship the stability, I thought I found in you, was taken suddenly from me. It was taken by the very person who lifted me up – you. I figured my burdens were too heavy for you to handle, and you bolted. I couldn’t understand what I did wrong. I felt foolish. I had been abandoned and discarded with very little value.

I broke. I was nothing. I wanted to believe that you didn’t deserve me, but I didn’t really believe it. You obviously wanted someone better. Why in the hell did you throw me away? Throw us away? Throw it all away?

I found a modicum of strength to survive for two little ones that deserved better than I could give, because I couldn’t admit defeat. Not to them.

In writing this, I feel so much pent up and forgotten resentment and anger.  It’s an unfocused emotion that, if left unrestrained, has the potential to send me into a downward spiral. I won’t go there.

How could I have been so wrong about us? How could you?

Painfully yours,



My Dear Darling


How awful it must have been for you to pen those words. I remember your raw, brittle pain all too well from that time as you tried to come to terms with your terrible loss. I know there are some dark moments to come but before we go there I must say your distress seemed obvious to me. Yes you put on a brave face, but to begin with I was truly perplexed that no else in our room seemed to notice or care. My heart reached out to you. I did nothing more than offer you my ear and my time. Both of which I would give gladly and unthinkingly again.

It is interesting to hear you choose the word “testing.” It never felt like a test but I know you were incredibly wary about letting your guard down. I think the test was for both of us, me to see if I would cut and run and you to see if you could even speak of the matters that troubled your soul. I just let you patiently find your own way and that really was what you needed. All I ever did was offer a ready ear and some words of encouragement. I know you broached then discussed at length some incredibly intense and hurtful subjects. It is not my way to judge someone by their words alone, actions I find to be a far better indicator of a person’s strengths and weaknesses. That means very little of course as you were the recipient (I chose not to use the word victim out of respect for your inner strength) and not the perpetrator. Hence when in our future when my own actions fell so far short as to be reprehensible, I had no choice but to find my own self wanting, very wanting.

Yes you are right our relationship was stable. It was also loving, honest, trusting and respectful. I threw away all of those things. Yes I bolted, but it was not from you. My Darling in my eyes you were and still are perfection in a partner. I have no intentions of listing those perfections because that would be just puerile. We fitted so beautifully together, comedically, emotionally, intellectually, physically and even spiritually. That was the perfection. As you say I bolted, but from what I bolted was never you; it could never be you. I bolted from my own shortcomings, my own failings, my own inadequacies. I was not worthy to be part of your life.  After I had betrayed your trust and cheated with another I knew I was woefully unsuitable to be your life partner. I would never be the man you thought I was. You deserved so much better than me and you deserved nothing of what I did to you, to us.

To hear you say that I broke you, claws at my heart. I thought I left in a way that would assure you that I alone would assume all the blame. To hear you describe yourself as having “very little value” is a body blow to me and just makes me feel far more wretched than I already do. I can say unequivocally that “throwing you away,” as you so painfully describe it, was the single worst decision I have ever made in my life. A life I might add where I went on to make a number of particularly poor decisions in the years to come.

I have attempted to explain my mindset when I ended us in that awful letter I emailed you. The words are woefully inadequate. I will reread that painful document and see if it is fit for publication here. The crux though is true. It is not an excuse nor for that matter even close to an acceptable explanation. You had gone temporarily from my life, for reasons upon which we had both agreed. I thought I was strong enough to deal with the silence. I was manifestly wrong on that front. Not only could I not deal with the silence but I had lost the one person who would have helped me through it. I needed to pick up the phone and call you. You would have put salve on my worries, I would have felt your love, and you would have calmed my inner demons. I was too proud, too stupid and too arrogant. Then when I could no longer cope I did what I did. You were never wrong my Darling. It was I who made the most grievous error.


You Will Always Be My Darling (though I no longer have the right to say it)

 From Sir (a man who has fallen so far below the level required to hold such a lofty title), on bended knee, begging your forgiveness for the wrongs he has done you. However unworthy he may be he is still very much in love with you.

©2013 Darling and Sir