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

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

First Night Part 1

My Dear Loveable Sir,

I’m not even sure how I can write this letter with a straight face, so I won’t fight it. I’m grinning like a Cheshire cat remembering that first night.

My internal body clock was telling me it was time to be up and moving, yet it was night time outside. What I put you through! I had taken a hot shower to wash the away the travelling feeling and to try to relax. You graciously saw me to bed and made sure I had everything I needed. Then you retired to your room to give me privacy and to try to sleep yourself. I was clean and in my pajamas and wide awake!

I am not sure how long I laid there just thinking; you know how my brain doesn’t like to shut down at night. I contemplated where I was and who I was with, and I was still processing it all. I was in Sir’s house, and Sir was in the other room! We had hugged and kissed. I was giddy beyond belief to be certain. I was the princess and pea was across the hallway.

I know I eventually drifted off to sleep, but it felt like I had just barely closed my eyes when the strangest noise awoke me. It wasn’t just because I was in a strange house where I wasn’t used to its sounds; this noise was freaky and a bit scary. After waiting what seemed like ages, I heard it again. I wasn’t sure what I should do. I decided to bite the bullet and go wake the sleeping giant in his lair.

I crossed the hall and softly called your name from the doorway (which you left open so you could hear me in case I needed you). You immediately arose and came to me asking what was wrong. I told you about the noise. You followed me into your spare room and sat with me on the bed. We waited. And we waited. And waited some more. The noise never happened again at least not that night (we figured out what it was another night and that is a story in itself). I am sure you thought I was imagining things at that point, but you were too much of a gentleman to say it out loud. I was feeling a bit foolish by this time anyway.

You decided to lie next to me in my bed and talk to me to soothe my frazzled nerves. I wish I could say that it was all a clever ruse to get you in my bed (ha), but that wasn’t the case at all. You worried and fretted over me. I felt completely protected.

This night is very memorable in more ways than one, and you Sir know why. It was a new chapter of us.

Fervidly yours,

Darling

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My Jet Lagged Darling

I remember that first night vividly. As you know there are multiple reasons for that, many of which will never grace these pages.

Yes you were standing in my home. My American sweetheart, jet lagged, emotionally charged and incredibly beautiful was here with me. I was a happy man.

You had showered and readied yourself for bed. I knew you were wired, but you clearly needed sleep. I had made up the spare room for you. While I wanted nothing more than to never spend a moment apart from you, I wanted you to feel safe and secure and not be worried by any unwanted demands of your host. You needed a safe place to call your own.

That damn noise, I can’t believe it. If I had known that was all it would take to drive me into your arms, I would have ensured it started a heck of a lot earlier. I am laughing out loud here, because I now know the cause. But at the time I was as perplexed as you were.

Yes I did lay next to you on your bed. It seems like such a contrivance reading it now. I was totally innocent I swear. That first night together, it is seared in my memory. Lying next to you in that darkened room was amazing. I was experiencing a tactile overload. You were mine to touch, kiss, stroke and hold. I could smell you. I could gaze lovingly into your eyes. There is no need to draw a diagram about what logically happened next. Suffice it to say that you never needed to sleep in my spare room again, and you never did.

You were in Australia, in my house and by my side. The next chapter in our incredible journey had well and truly begun.

You Will Always Be My Darling

From Sir With Love

©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

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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

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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

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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

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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

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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

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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