Remember 30

And now I am lying here in our bed, alone.

My body remembers your warm soft skin against mine, your caresses, your kisses, your laughter, your lips on my nipples, your hand on my vagina....

Remember when we first met. You were 18 and I was 17. Two shy kids. You hardly dared to touch me, you were so shy. So I caressed you a little awkwardly. And then you caressed me back. And then, suddenly, we hugged each other fiercely. Warm feelings went through me and I felt so happy.

And then some time passed. And remember when we were going to have sex for the first time, you were so eager that you almost came before you had entered me. But it didn't matter, because you still had your hard-on, and then we made love for a long time before you came again. And eventually we both learned to hold ourselves, so that we could come at the same time. My dear, how wonderful we had it with each other!

You told me you had a hard time at school. The teachers bullied you. You thought it was because you asked questions they couldn't answer. And the lessons were slow, moving along like a louse on a tarred wooden stick, you thought. So you lost your motivation completely, and the grades plummeted. Poor you!

But you had your interest in music. And you soon became a full-fledged jazz guitarist. And you got your own jazz band. And most of the time the band got enough gigs to live on. But sometimes it was tight.

I'll never forget when we moved into our small, worn-out studio apartment, our first home together. And when we crawled under the covers in the cold room and warmed each other. How happy we were!

I loved your music. Although sometimes in the beginning it was a bit difficult when you tried to improvise new songs on your Stratocaster, for hours on end. But then you plugged headphones into the amp, so you didn't bother anyone any more. Neither the neighbors.

Actually, I was a bit sad that you chose to play in a jazz band. When you were on tour, you could be away from me for weeks at a time, and I felt so alone. Although we did call each other, and sometimes we had phone sex. But that was no substitute for real sex.

I never travel for work. I don't need to when I'm working at the checkout in the grocery store.

I long for you so much. I long for your soft voice, your hands caressing me, your arms hugging me.

When I lie here in bed, I caress myself and pretend that it is you who caresses me. But it can never be the same. If you could be with me now! I cry myself to sleep at night, I miss you so!

Remember the great birthdays we have celebrated together. When it was my birthday, you always gave me a bouquet of red roses. And when it was your birthday, I did the same.

The last time we visited your mother, she gave us a jar of her delicious plum jam. Then, when we got back to our place, we took out the chocolate cake I had baked, and spread it with the jam and whipped cream. It tasted so good! And your mom is so nice. When we visit her in her small house, I always get a big, warm hug. I never got that at home. My mom is so strict and cold and never hugs anyone. She never hugs my dad either. And he drinks. So maybe it's not that strange. But she could have hugged me anyway. Now it feels more like your mom is also my mom.

And you who barely knew your father. He died so young when his aorta suddenly burst. Life is very hard sometimes.

We've talked a lot about having children. And becoming a real family. But then there was the fact that you traveled so much. So you didn't think you'd have time to be a good dad. It was in that last fall you decided to change your career, so you enrolled in a school for adults. You wanted to get enough grades to apply to a music college. And then you would work as a music teacher in a school. Then you wouldn't be away from home so much. And then we could have children. You planned to start at the school in the spring semester.

I should pull myself together and apply for an education in health care. Or maybe to become a childcare worker or a recreational teacher. It would be nice to work with taking care of others. I don't want to sit at the checkout all my life.

I would have loved if you could have played me some nice quiet jazz song on your Strat. I would have liked that. You had such an incredible sense of the nuances of the songs you played. It really vibrated in me when I listened.

I wonder how your mom is feeling right now. I'll see her again soon. I don't wonder what my own parents are thinking. They don't care about me. I don't really want to see them any more.

Your teddy bear is here in bed with me. When you were a child, you used to tuck him in under a terry towel every night. And you continued to do that as an adult. I love your teddy bear so much.

Outside, there is wet snow, and an icy wind is blowing. That's how it feels inside me too.

I so wish that winter was over and that we went out into the forest together on a hot summer day. And that we would find a secluded forest glade somewhere where we could spread out our blanket. And then we would open our nicely prepared picnic basket and have lunch together. And afterwards, we would lie down on the blanket, close to each other. And we would undress each other, the few clothes we had on in the summer heat. And caress and hug each other. And I would feel your warm skin against mine. And we would French kiss. And I would close my hand around your stiffening penis. And you would put your hand on my moist vagina and squeeze it gently. And then you would enter me, slowly and gently, and I would meet your soft thrusts. And we would make love for a long time. And then we would come, both of us together. And then we would just lie there, in each other's arms.

I have stroked myself to orgasm now, here in our bed. It was nice, but still so painful. Because you are no longer here with me. Oh, my God, I'm so lonely and unhappy!

But I have to get up and get dressed now. And wrap the bouquet of red roses I bought yesterday. And I must hurry, or I'll be late for your funeral. Poor dear, you were only 27 when your aorta burst.