Sherry#00: Background, Prelude, the Beginning
I RARELY POST, but have a number of reasons for posting parts of old and new journals.
I am currently coming out of a "flat line" relationship and find myself reminiscing about past flames. Its funny, sometimes the things we care about the most, others could care less to hear. My dad's favorite expression here is: "Shut up, Kid and drink your beer!"; his kidding way of saying you're crying in it.
One relationship that lasted several years and parted on the best of terms left a gapping hole in my aura. The alias of Sherry is this person I write about and some of the encounters we shared. If my postings do include my experiences from other relationships, I will so indicate, but continue to post them under "Sherry: . . .". By using the postings as a sounding board to others, my hope is to gain some helpful feedback without being told to: "...drink my beer!".
A pipe dream I cling to is if others read my posts, perhaps I'll find another Sherry. Where there's life, there's hope!
As a reminder, ALL NAMES I USE ARE ALIASES!!!
BACKGROUND:
Before I could post anything, however, I felt it necessary to acquaint possible readers with the main participant and how our relationship became and fit together. None of this will be repeated in later postings.
When HIV was unknown (there was such a time) "Sherry", as I'll call her, worked for an airline here in town and a Pilot (a good friend) introduced us. Sherry was 26 at the time and we dated for a while, only deciding we made better friends then a couple. She was VERY attractive, white, 5'5", approximately 115 lbs, and a PERFECT (to die for) figure. If my grandfather were to have met her, he would have said: "When she enters a room full of men, they all would salute the flag!" She had a look in her eyes that made one feel both alive and as if the heart stopped if graced with her glance. She was a toucher, not sexually, but usually had to touch a hand, arm, or back when you talked to her.
Most beautiful women don't trust men. Sherry was the exception. Being only slightly jaded from fighting constant male pursuit, she had unconsciously learned to charm many of her "cock hounds" from their efforts and still retain a childlike innocence only those near her were allowed to see.
She was living in a longtime girlfriend's, Danis (yes, I "knew" Danis and may have postings about her, too), converted garage and was just ending her third marriage. We were both looking for a house. She found several, but when the perfect one came along (3 level townhouse) she couldn't afford it. To make it short, we pooled our finances, bought it together, and moved in on separate floors. A platonic friendship, at first.
Sherry was the perfect friend and sexual companion for me. Of the relationships and ladies I've been blessed to have been involved with, Sherry is the "Pearl of great price".
Sherry and I were somewhat forced to part. She was transferred to another stewardess base and I had an excellent job I couldn't soon replace. We parted, vowing to remain close.
Long distance relationships don't work. Sherry and I weekended together for a few months, slowly declining in frequency. Time eventually severed us almost completely. I still know of her, where she lives, and send her flowers anonymously on her birthday. The regret of her loss is one I will be forced to carry to the grave.
My grandmother had a philosophy about relationships: "A relation is like a three legged stool, but with legs made of Love, Lust, and Life (a day to day working companionship). Just as with the stool, a relationship with three strong legs won't teeter or fall over even on rough or unsure footing. A two legged relationship will stand strong, but always needs work to keep it upright. A relationship with only one leg is doomed."
Sherry and I had two and a half legs on our "stool".
PRELUDE to Bondage:
After being together about 3 months, still platonic, I was sorting though boxes from the move. Sherry spied a pair of S&W handcuffs I owned and asked, "What are THESE for?" holding them up by one finger.
"They're for taking bad girls into my custody.", I replied.
"I was handcuffed when I was a teenager for curfew violation, but I could slip right out of them.", she said.
"Lets see if you still can."