Milacik - After Thoughts

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Remembering is bittersweet, but better than the alternative
769 words
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Part 2 of the 2 part series

Updated 09/22/2022
Created 01/14/2008
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This is not about sex, although sex surely played a (wonderfully) big part. It is also not about regrets, since there is too much to cherish, in spite of the aching loss. It is about remembering.

Four years later, and I can still picture every beautiful thing that I loved about her. The touch of her beautiful upturned nose on my cheek. The taste of her soft luscious lips on mine, and the tip of her tongue caressing mine. Her eyes – ohhh, her gorgeous cat's-eyes which often stayed open to let me lose myself in their depth. The way she sweetly called me "Milacik" – a word that I came to know so well, and which expressed her love so many different ways. The same word could express a multitude of meanings - sometimes a question, sometimes a playful scold, other times a caress, but always a promise of unending bliss.

She questioned anything and everything. Nothing was sacrosanct. Half answers were never acceptable, especially when it came to the things that we shared. No secrets, no shame, no masks or half-truths. There was nothing that we could not explore, as long as we explored it together. After every session I always came away with a feeling of exhilaration, and a deeper understanding.

The decision to separate was mine, and mine alone. It was an extremely hard decision, taken for entirely selfish reasons, when faced with a loss that I could not bear to contemplate – the loss of my children's love and respect. In parting, I was not the least bit fair to her. I can still feel the pain that I caused her, and it gives me great pain as well.

I now understand better why I made the choices that I did. I will never know whether there could have been a different way. I do know that after years of effort, the results are as I had hoped.

Could I have done things differently? Perhaps. And maybe I would also somehow have emerged intact on the other side of the nightmare that I faced – different from today, but still whole. No one can ever really know "the road not taken".

I do know how much I miss her. There is not a day which goes by without me thinking of her some time. My favorite time is early morning, when I lie in bed, half awake (and half asleep). I like to let my thoughts drift to her, curling up on my side and imagining her spooned in my arms, her delectable ass pressed back into my groin, my cock nestled firmly between her cheeks, my hardness alternately waxing and waning with her gentle undulations. My arms wrapped around her, cupping her perfect breasts and feeling her nipples pebbled between my fingers. Her smooth silky legs tangled up in mine, her toes caressing my feet. My face buried in the hollow of her sweet fragrant neck, my lips pursing to nuzzle her soft skin.

I know exactly what I have lost, which is what troubles me most. I was given one chance in life to find that "one true love" which romance novels wax lyrical about, but which most men and women never even approach. I will never find a woman who could even approach her – a woman who could make me feel so loved and allow me to adore her so in return. It would be folly to even try.

So I make my way now through life without her, enjoying the moments of triumph and satisfaction – holidays, children's weddings, grandchildren, work achievements - marred only by my inability to share them with her. In my mind, I still share everything. All the trials and tribulations as well, great and small – frustrations, disappointments, minor setbacks and major crises. There was never a problem to big or too small, which didn't look better through her beautiful and perceptive eyes.

I have much to be grateful for, and only one real regret – the yawning hole in my heart which will never be filled by anyone else.

I wonder constantly how she is doing now. I am sorely tempted to make contact, if only to know that she is happy and well. But I suspect that this would be an extremely selfish act – maybe easing my own pangs of regret, but almost surely causing her more. I couldn't bear the thought of causing her any more pain than I already have.

I miss her terribly – every bit as much as the day we parted. I will always love her.

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Saula88Saula88almost 2 years ago

So sensitively written. I’m so moved, though by what precisely, I can’t really tell. I think there is something of this story, in some crevice, in all of us.5 stars.

IlizaDanilIlizaDanilalmost 11 years ago
Bittersweet

We do the right things for the wrong reasons. And the wrong things for the right reasons. And what we lose, sometimes, is a part of ourselves. Because they take that with them when they leave, as we lose them from our lives.

The first story was like dessert, like an entire dessert buffet, all the sugar and richness and decadence, wholly satisfying, The second was like a hangover cure. Not especially gratifying, but painfully necessary to face the day.

Big sighs are like wordless prayers sometimes. And forever is the cruelest word.

chytownchytownalmost 11 years ago
Thanks***

For sharing.

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Milacik Previous Part
Milacik Series Info

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