sunshine
Registered User

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.

Oddly, I find myself in the same situation when I met you. I am in a vanilla relationship and I crave more. I laugh at myself and where I find myself....back where I began when I met you. That said, I am happier than I have ever been in my life and I would not trade it for anything else. Still, I wish I could live two lives. The one that I have now, where I feel loved everyday I am with my wife. We laugh together....we are partners in life and she knows me deeply. She knows about you too. We don't hide things from each other. Yet, it is vanilla. I miss you...talking to you....hearing your voice. I miss the sexual tension between us. The promise of so much....a perfect circle of need and desires we hope to fulfill in the other. I still desire what we going to have. I feel sad for what was lost, what never had a chance to be. Despite the pain of it all, I am grateful for your love and for knowing you. Looking forward to each day to chat with you. To try to get to know a little bit more of you. It is more than just lust and kinky sex...I wanted you to be healthy and happy. I wanted to make you happy or at least give you some happiness. Isn't that enough....knowing that someone cares enough about you to want good things for you?

Am I sad and pathetic for coming here month after month to mourn you...to remember you...to night-dream of what could have been? Maybe I am a sad little monkey for mourning your passing. But this is not about me and how others perceive me or how they may judge me. This is about letting the world know who you are and were....in my memories and my mourning, you come back to life for a brief moment. If people can feel my emotions.....really feel what I felt and still feel for you, then it means that your life endures beyond the short life that you had. Maybe all they need to know is that a man fell in love with a women when neither of them was looking for love. We were both lonely people searching across the darkness of the night on the internet....looking for something exciting and titillating. Perhaps the fantasy of our darkest dreams were found together...here. Despite that lustful, emotional trap....we found an unexpected love. A deep understanding of each other...our flaws, frailties, weaknesses....and none of that mattered. We accepted one another...warts and all and saw past the emotional scars. Seeing past the loneliness....seeing someone worthy of hope, love and acceptance. I miss you....I miss wondering how your day went...the sound of your voice telling me about YOU.

I daydreamed about what we could have done and maybe a life together. I reached for my phone and texted your old roommate and asked her to share with me memories of how she knew you loved me. Not because I doubted, but because I wanted to feel that you were real, beyond my own distant memories. I wanted to know her memories of you.....someone to remind me that you were real. What we had was real.

I was walking around San Francisco....the Mission area of town, waiting for my daughter to get her tattoos done at a place called Black Serum Tattoo. I had four hours to wander around the neighborhood. There were the Latin Mission District with its charm and color. Billboards and shop windows in Spanish. I wandered further and found the Castro District with its Rainbow Flags waving proudly. A beautifully bold statement of being and of permanence. The weather was sunny and warm with locals wearing shorts and tank tops. There is a vibe to the city that is different from the East Bay suburbia where I grew up and live in today. An ebony woman with stripped stocking and star like tattoos on her eyelids that reminded me of a clown. Others with piercings and tats....to the more mundane with people riding in the bike lanes with stand up electric scooters. Without a doubt, people in THE LIFE would be found in this City. I thought of you....how you might have felt at home here, where I was just a tourist visiting and appreciating the differences that makes each place unique and special. In that place, enjoying my silent walks...I longed for you and missed you. I allowed myself in the waking moments of the daylight to imagine WHAT IF.