It’s been nine months since I last felt your warm lips press against mine.

Addicts measure their sobriety in mile stones; 30 days, 90 days, six months etc. You were my addiction right up until the very end of everything.

It’s still hard to think of you. Remembering your laugh isn’t as easy as it once was, but I remember your touch.  Forever, the feel of your skin against mine will be burned in my memory. The way the briefest of connection of our bodies would send shivers through me, making me glow from your attention. If I close my eyes, I can almost sense your presence, can almost taste the brandy from your lips.

I remember very vividly the last moments we were together, but most importantly I remember the evening before.  I recall every inch of my body your lips trailed, how you nipped at my breasts, and suckled hard until I almost shed tears from the pain. Your devilish grin eased the burn just enough for me accept the next bit of torture you had in store for me.  Every sense was on high alert that evening with vanilla scented candles burning on our dresser,  the lights from the burning wick sashaying on the walls of our bedroom. You had shared my wine before we went up to play, I could taste it on your tongue when it danced with mine.  The ropes you wound around my wrists and ankles bit deliciously into my flesh, and the whoosh of the flogger just before it sank into my ass completed the scene.

Everything was as it should have been. The way we loved it, loved each other.  We’d built our life together, shared every day failures and triumphs with one another. From the time I opened my eyes until I closed them in sleep, you were my priority, my greatest love.

But fate stole you. Ripped you from my loving arms and ran off with you before I could fathom what had happened.  You spent our last moments together begging for more time, and I would have done anything to give it to you.

But, deceit is a whore best kept a silent mistress.

It’s been nine months since we last held each other with loving looks, and endearing hands. It’s been almost nine months since the blinders were torn from me, and your truth was exposed.  It’s been almost nine months since I held you in my arms, listening to you beg, and take your last breaths. It’s been almost nine months since I felt your heart stop beating and wishing that mine would follow suit. It’s been almost nine months, since the poison raged through your veins, stealing you from this life and shoving you into the hell of your truth.

I hear she is still without brainwaves, but her husband refuses to give up on her.

It’s been nine months since you last put your warmth inside of me, since I felt a power of love so strong that it created heaven out of the darkness of your deceit.

It’s been nine months, a mile stone for me. I wonder if our son, who arrives any day now, will bare your eyes, smile at me with your lips, or sniffle with a nose that looks like yours. I hope so, as I miss you with each passing breath.

It has been nine months since my  heart was broken, my soul ripped to shreds, and my love murdered by my own hand.

I was feeling a little dark tonight. Maybe it’s because I’ve been feeling angry at my ex brother-in-law for breaking my sister’s heart and destroying the family they created together. Maybe it’s because I haven’t written a vanilla story in a while, and unfortunately someone usually dies in my vanilla fiction- or at least gets mangled a bit. Whatever the reason, hope you enjoyed, and be sure to stop by all the blogs this week!

And stop by tomorrow- I’m hosting Jaye Peaches!