Just how much I miss her

Dear Diary,

I miss her so much, so very much.

It is as though the sun shone on me from both sides at once, then suddenly, dark grey ominous clouds cover all in a stillness borne only of loneliness and a barren forlorn lovelorn wilderness, devoid of comfort.

I miss her smile. When midst the tender throes of love, when her ankles were about my ears and we danced to a silent rhythm that only the soul can hear, all cares and worries faded away. That we shared the most intimate moments together. I held before me her two pure white breasts that were as to me two orbs of radiance that could bestow the greatest pleasure yet cast a man's spirit down to the furthest depths of Hades in sorrow, hopelessness and despair.

Feeling her silken soft smooth thighs was as heavenly as John Donne's poesy. She was as in love with me as I was with her, sparing each and every moment to be together. A kiss as intimate as any French maid, and as relished as any man may feel with the tender touch of tongues, exploring one another's being in the most cherished and loving way possible, between one human being and another.

I miss her silvery cascading laugh as we imparted the most improper words between one another whilst making love. I miss her body so close to mine, around, in each and every way. Feeling. Touching. Grasping for a yearning that is ever fulfilled with the tenderest joy that can exist. I miss the way she danced in the bar. I miss her aplomb. Her knowledge of archaeology. I miss her naughty sensuous way about her as she undressed and I caressed each and every part of her body. I miss her hands running through my hair as we kissed. I miss all of her.

Most of all I miss snugly wrapping one another's arms about each other afterwards, safe in the knowledge that someone adores you as much as you do them. That all problems melted as does ice beneath the morning sun. I miss that sense of security, feeling her chest rise and fall, feeling her breath upon mine, and when the dawn arose, so did we both in the glory of morning love. I miss her, more than anyone else can possibly know.