for my love

“I was going to write something on your birthday card, but I couldn’t think of anything that was work-place appropriate.”

This was the first thing she said to me, really. We’d had a conversation or two, here or there, and one now-legendary altercation about being friends, but for the most part, she was the quiet, good natured shy beauty who I never really paid that much attention to. I was wrapped up in my own thing, feeling down and alone and just not looking.

But you know what they say about that.

I must have stammered some kind of reply, something along the lines of “Oh. Well. There you go then.”, as she walked out of the break-room and back to the call-center floor we both worked at.

And that was the beginning.

Two days later, we had coffee together for the first time, talking about our lives, making small talk, starting the process of getting to know one another. At some point, I pinched her lightly on the arm (I’m pretty sure it was the first time we’d ever touched.) She gave me a ‘how dare you!’ kind of look… then she smiled and purred “Do that again”, with the look in her eyes that I would come to know as “I’m up to something.”

I laughed and said “No.” She pouted, and smiled, and we continued.

Leaving the coffee shop, we parted ways; she was headed into the downtown core to do some shopping, I was heading back to my apartment. Had we lingered there on the sidewalk a few minutes more, I’m sure we’d have kissed. And days later, when we finally did kiss for the first time we both felt like the pilot of the Enola-Gay flying out of the shockwave: nothing could have prepared us for that explosive flash of recognition as we realized exactly what we were getting into.

That initial, electric, brilliant excitement and attraction I felt for her then has never faded, never waned. We’ve been through ups and downs over the past two years, everyone does. But we’re still very much in love, and very much in Lust. She’s the best thing that has ever happened to me, and she tells me I’m her hero.

She will remain “she” and “her” here, of course, just as my name will never be written. But she is my muse, in all things, but especially here. Almost everything that I write and post is either a direct experience that we’ve shared, based on one, or a fantasy that we have discussed. She inspires me, always. She is the Virgin and the Whore, predator and prey, my Mistress and My slave. She is my partner, my love, my friend.

And, just like Queen Victoria did, she has asked me to marry her. And I said “Yes.”

Happy anniversary, my love, and may we have a million more.