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Dying to be with Sylvie (Part 2)

Click here to read Dying to be with Sylvie (Part 1)

He left quickly, leaving her frustrated. Still, it was a start and once the dam is broken, the water continues to flow. He remembered the shock, horror and devastation he felt a few days later when he withdrew to find the tattered remnants of a broken condom on his deflating penis. Together they lived the imagined future of a child so early in their relationship, of the shame brought to both families, of the hardships that would be endured, of being ostracized by society. The joyful news that Sylvie’s period arrived two weeks later brought welcome relief. He remembered the joys that their relationship brought as they grew closer. The leap that their hearts gave when they unexpectedly saw each other during the day; the stolen moments in the back corner of the office for a kiss and cuddle; hitchhiking 300 miles back from a course for a weekend of being together, hitchhiking back for the course on the Sunday afternoon; of the weekend in a local motel, in which they made love seven times one night despite the bed collapsing under them; of Saturday night’s dancing in another town, sharing a motel unit for the night afterwards; of their week-long road trip, being together all day every day, making love all night, every night, well, maybe not quite all night; of their decision to leave their work and chart their course through life together. Sometimes life-changing decisions are made on the spur of the moment. Such was their decision to change the course of their lives and train in a new vocation. They applied and were accepted into the same college, studying many of the same courses together. They shifted hostels, once again having to deal with finding moments of intimacy in single beds. He smiled again as he remembered the generosity of friends and the nights of spent in their houses in a double bed with Sylvie. He remembered the final few weeks of the course that first year, which they spent completing practical requirements, staying in an old farmhouse, together, alone. The sheer joy of waking in each other’s arms, every morning, of feeling each other close and naked in bed, of being able to make love together when the mood arose, which was frequently. Would life have been bliss if it had continued that way forever? Probably not, he thought, even when the situation is blissful, humans need challenges and changes. He remembered the following year moving into a rented house together, finally confirming the intimate nature of their relationship to friends and families; his divorce coming through, making their relationship now legal. He remembered their marriage.

To be continued…

By Allan Willoughby

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