sunshine
Registered User

I had my 4th dream about you. Sadly, that is not many for someone who has been longing for you for 14 years. What does it say that you, someone I profess my love, devotion, and desire for does not dream of you more often? Perhaps it is the nature of our relationship...to never have met in person, to never hold the other person in your arms. You are a fantasy, a dream, but to say that is to deny the love and connection we had. An undeniable connection that lingers all these years later. In my dream, I saw your face...the imagination of how you who have looked today, older, worn....real. I almost cried after reflecting upon my brief dream of you. Simply grateful that you were in my dream...a little more real in an unreal world

I love romantic comedies these days. Probably because I am in love and I am loved in return. I enjoy seeing the boy getting the girl. I enjoy seeing the silliness that is romance and love...that we willing open ourselves up to being hurt. we are vulnerable. Love can not be experienced without payment in return. You cannot feel joy if you have not tasted the bitterness of pain. Love demands we are laid out bare and exposed. We are offered up onto the slab of judgement. Yet, in that offering, we can experience a deep joy. A profound sensation unlike anything else. What is risked is rewarded with so much in return. I am happy in a way that I have never been before. I am grateful. You would have been 50 yrs old this year. Yet, you will always remain 36 yrs old to me. I am now 55. I find it welcoming to be this old, yet surprised that i am so much closer to 60 yrs old. I think of you and wonder all of the what if's. I feel sad that your life was cut short. I remind myself to try to live a life for both of us. I know you would smile and would be happy for me at the love I have found. Please know that you will never be forgotten. You are cherished, loved, and remembered.

Misty, relationships are hard because they require work. They require honesty. The type of honesty that requires you to look into the mirror to see yourself as you really are....not as we hope to be. It requires the uncomfortable stare of looking into someone else's eyes and to see the hurt that you have caused or the joy that your presence brings them. Relationships are hard, but nothing worth having should be all that easy. Despite the struggle and the hard work, the rewards are so magical and wonderful. The journey to the top of the mountain is fraught with the range of human emotions that we are all capable of feeling. There is the initial excitement of the first steps on the trail, the wide eyed beauty of it all, the slowing pace of fatigue, the sting of the salty sweat rolling into your eyes or are those tears? There are the moments of despair when you want to stop and turn around because the immensity of it is too large to bear and because it seems impossible....then there is the contentment of exhaustion and the reward of the stunning view from the top. I never have once regretted taking the first steps on the trail to your heart. Despite the pain of your loss, I can only look out upon the ruin of what could have been with us and take comfort in the lingering warmth of your commitment and love towards me.

I miss the sound of your voice. It is becoming harder for me to recall what it sounded like. I miss your wit....your sharp tongue. Stephen called you a Smart Ass Masochist Sub. SAM Sub. I liked your fire, I loved that you made me work for every bit that you slowly gave to me. I enjoyed unraveling the mystery that was you. And when I peeled back those last layers, I found so much that we shared in common. You were where I had been in my life, years before. I wanted you to be able to see through my eyes....to see how wonderful and special you were when you refused to see anything good about you. Peeling back those layers, I found my way into your heart and you into mine. Time will strip away the memories that I have of you. Your voice will fade from my ears and will just be a faint echo of the past. However, what will always remain is the feeling of you. The love that crushed my heart when you died. The joy that I felt each day I was able to chat with you. The anticipation of just being able to spend some more time with you....enjoying your company. Yes, the thrill of the fantasy of WHAT IF we could meet in person and play out all of those twisted desires. In the end, I remember how much we cared and loved each other across the span of distance between us. Worlds apart, yet bonded together. Even now, I am bonded to you in the memory of a woman who loved this simple man.

I am sorry that I have not been back to see you in a while. When I was in Panama, you were with me. I stood out on a sandy beach in the darkness of the night with only the faint light of a partial moon to light my way. My ears filled with the sound of the waves crashing and rolling in. My feet washed with the touch of the waves that were you reaching out to me from the darkness. In the darkness of the night, I was alone on that beach, but with you. We spoke in the spaces between the crashing of the waves. My mind drifted to a place I have not allowed myself to go to in a long time. Over these years, I have tried to kills my desire for you. I have tried to not imagine what could have been, what we could have done together. The promise of so many dreams and dark desires. But in that moment, there was a flood of images and twisted thoughts that just welled up to the surface from the deepest depths of the ocean that is my mind. I imagined holding you gently, I imagined bending you over to flog, I imagined making you scream out in pain and lust...begging me for more. I imagined so many things that night on the beach...alone with you. Feeling your touch as the warm water of the Gulf washed across the fine silty sands and over my toes. All I knew is that I wanted you so badly and all that I had was the sound of the ocean echoing your voice into my longing ears.

Tonight I burn for you....for lust, for desires so long held and denied. Rare is the moment when I allow myself to be stirred by these feelings. I long for you...to feel my hands slide across bare flesh, chest heaving with heavy breath in anticipation of what terrible things I will do to you. To hear your soft moan as I run my finger tips lightly across your skin. Your ears straining to hear my movements as sight is held from you with soft blindfold. The tip of the riding crop tracing the outline of your thigh....and across your stomach. The sharp crack of the leather biting into your pale flesh. The writhing of your body as the wave of warmth rolls across your body....your mind numb and ears sharp to strain to know what comes next. The night is young, my patience endless....your pleasure is my sole focus. The cries of your delight and despair fill my mind and stir my loins.

It is a new year my love. I am losing track of the years that have gone by. I believe that it has been 13, going on 14 years since you past. I have moved on, but since I am here, perhaps that is a lie that I tell myself...that I have moved on. I am happy. I have found joy and an unexpected vanilla love that challenges me to ponder beyond the physical. The emotional mushiness that love can be. I must be honest with myself and I cannot deny the hold that THIS world has upon me. I do feel a bit silly and a tad bit frustrated that I have gone full circle.....in a vanilla marriage and craving THIS and not able to obtain it. When my marriage ended, I had an opportunity to dive into THIS world. I reach out, I met someone who was willing to PLAY with me. Yet I DID NOT. As much as I was craving kinky sex....I was emotionally alone and was craving an emotional connection beyond all else. I found it, but perhaps a bit too early in that I did not get to indulge my kink. So here I am....happily married with small cravings for THIS. Part of me died with you and the burning desire for THIS died too. The pain of your death is mixed with my desire for THIS. The pain of your death was so crushingly hard, it makes desires for THIS painful....as it will always remind me of losing you. More importantly, I missed the deep connection we had. I miss you. As much as I would love to flog your ass raw....I mostly want to hold you in my arms and let you feel the warmth of my love for you.

Merry Christmas my Sunshine. It is late....past midnight, once again, as I only seem to visit you in the darkness of night. Here in the shadows, I can speak my mind freely. I just wanted to let you know that I am alright....I am happy and I am loved. My daughter is 20 years old now and heads off to college next month. She is smart, witty, and has a good head on her shoulders to avoid trouble. I have been re-married for three years and with the same woman for 10 years. She knows about you...she accepts who and what you are to me....there is room in my heart for many people....for my wife, for you, my daughter....even my ex wife. I am blessed that these relationships are good in my life. You don't have to worry about me. You might be annoyed that I bother to spend any time upon you...but you are worth it. Worth loving and remembering. You are special to me and always will, so get over it and accept it. That I will always love you and cherish the pain in the ass that you were. I just wish I could bend you over and punish your ass until you cried out in ecstasy. God, I do miss you. You are the dark part of me that will always be. You are the promise of everything, you are the denial and disappointment of never having tasted all that you had to offer. I am the moth to your flame. Love you always.

Another year is coming quickly to an end. Another year to remember you....honor you....to ponder of another life lived with you. For a long time, my grief prevented me from fantasizing about you....your body, the wonderfully twisted and terrible things that I would do with you. To hear the cries of your anguish and lust. To see your flesh twitch and shiver at my touch. To hear the wet moans slip from your lips and you begged me for more. These last few nights, laying in bed, wrapped the darkness of the deep moonless nights, I stare into the void of darkness. I feel the urge well up in me, coming from the deeps of my soul that I thought that I had drowned in the sea of my tears. These last night, I imagine being with you. I dare to imagine what could have been. Rather than mourn you in sadness, I celebrate you in the hot lust that sparked the unexpected journey that found love....deep, beyond lust, so bound in care and worry. Lest I never forget the spark that made us....I hope to dream of us, wrapped in passionate, lustful embrace. My Sunishine

Like a moth to the flame, I return to the memory of you. You are, in death, something pure that I can point to with certainty. The certainty that you loved me and that your devotion to me was evident while you laid in an ICU bed, your body riddled with cancer. You awoke from your slumber in a panic, worried that I would worry about you....if I did not hear from you. Despite your dire circumstances, death creeping steadily towards your doorstep, you thought not of yourself, but worried about me. You made such a fuss that they brought you your laptop, so you could reach out to me. I was there, lucky to be online when you reached out to me. Yes, I was worried sick about you, helpless to do anything to help you. Unable to be by your side. We spoke briefly, I told you to rest and save your strength. Your half asleep words on my screen told me you were drifting off. You said that you loved me. I replied back that I loved you too. Such simple words said, but carried the weight of stone and meaning. A woman loved a man at the end of days, not worried about herself and dying, but that I would be distressed not hearing from her. How can I ever questions that you loved me....how can I ever think that I am not lovable? Your actions in the end of your moments remove all doubt. Your love is comfort, certainty, and peace.