Melancholic emptiness in an empty melancholy . . .
Published on June 11, 2007 By Courageous Dageous In Sex & Romance
There's this huge gulf between us, a chasm of unimaginable size, and it seems to get wider every day.

Eleven months ago, things were very different between the two of us. We had just moved in together, and life was good. She was vibrant, alive, and lovely. Her long blonde hair would hang like a halo about her hair as she would lie in bed next to me, breathing softly, slowly, almost imperceptibly. Her eyes would open, eyes of piercing blue, that would cut me to the core, peer into my very old and sad soul, and bring me light, cheer, and hope.

Her legs were long and tanned, and I would wrap them around my own, a strange concert of color, my olive skin next to her bronzed loveliness, my dark, dusky hair mirroring her blonde as we would come together in a symphony of passion.

The happiness, the complacency, the love, and the lust continued for the next eight months, unabated. Until the revelation of her past indiscretions came to light. Nothing serious; it's not as though she cheated on me with my cousin or something scandalous like that – in fact, it didn't even happen during our relationship. But the rift was made, the wedge was driven between the two of us, and little gripes that had waited in the wings for the opportunity to pounce leaped into action, driving the divisive wedge ever deeper.

The happiness started to dissolve, slowly but surely disappearing into the dust. The complacency followed, until all that remained was the lust.

And that's where we are.

We both sense the rift, and it continues to grow between us.

And we try to bridge it by fulfilling our lusts.

I wrap my arms around her, caressing her jawline, kissing her softly, moving from mouth further south. The salty taste of her flesh, the pheremones of passion releasing and bringing me closer to her, ever closer. The arch in her back as she cries in fulfillment, the slow fade of our fire from unbridled blaze to “controlled flame”.

Sometimes I think that flame of passion is the funeral pyre of our love, and the Chopin dirge begins to echo through my mind again.

Dammit all to hell.

Comments
on Jun 11, 2007
What a story. What a suck.
on Jun 11, 2007
~whew.


I'm not sure how to interpret that comment, but thanks for letting me know you read it.

What a suck.


Yeah, it's a mess.
on Jun 11, 2007
Yeah, it's a mess.


Hope you figure out how to rectify this situation.

Somehow.

Sorry, I'm no help.
on Jun 12, 2007
Excellant writing.  Sad revelation.
on Jun 12, 2007
LoL, 'whew' as in "sheesh that was steamy!" (and sad. but steamy.)

~fans self.


Ah, I follow

Excellant writing. Sad revelation.


Thank you. Life will definitely be in upheaval the next few months.
on Jun 13, 2007
LoL, 'whew' as in "sheesh that was steamy!" (and sad. but steamy.)

~fans self.


Love it.

Yeah, CD, this was really steamy.