Farewell To Cindy
"Thank you for flying with us today," the flight attendant said as I exited the plane. I acknowledged her statement with a forced smile. There was no joy in such a smile, as it was hollow and empty at best. This flight to Alabama I knew was to be my last.
Ever since cancer had claimed her life, I had made this annual pilgrimage. Each summer I would come to spend time at her graveside. On her birthday, I would spend the day at the cemetery just hanging out and spending time with a memory of a time spent together. Cancer had taken her life and the future we had planned on sharing.
I was coming to say goodbye to Cindy. It was becoming the hardest thing I had yet to do in my young life.
With the rental car secured, I drove to the nearest liquor store. I bought Cindy's favorite beverage; Amaretto. As I have done every year since her passing, I was drinking to a memory. It was a lonely drive to the cemetery. My heart heavy at what I was about to do. It is never easy saying goodbye. The closer I got, the more I trembled with what was about to become.
It was early evening when I made it to the cemetery. I drove down the gravel roadway, until I pulled up to the section I had become all to familiar with. Pulling slightly off the roadway, I killed the engine. Setting motionless inside the car, my mind and body were unwilling to exit. I was reluctant to do what I had come to do. What I must do. My mind wandered back as I sat alone. To a more joyous occasion, when I had first met Cindy.
A shy Alabama girl, she was young and insecure, but so full of hope and promise. The day we met after so many late night phone calls was special. Cindy was a virgin, and she gave me the honor of being her first. I was to be her first, last and only lover she would know. Life can be cruel sometimes.
That first night was a whirlwind of excitement and pleasure. I remembered how she broke a kiss on the bed to leave the room and how rejected and hurt I felt. I was questioning what I had done wrong, only to see a goddess return dressed in the most seductive clothing I had ever seen.
In my mind I relived that night. The tender kisses she always called 'butterfly kisses'. The vision of her as her bra came off, revealing puffy pink nipples. The scent of perfume she must have put on in her absence filled my nostrils. The kisses on those breast still linger in my mind. The nipples growing ever longer as my mouth found and suckled them to unbelievable lengths.
Pulling the panties down, I slowly revealed her pussy. Not just any pussy, but a virginal one that was mine for the taking. The smile of knowing what I was about to do was more than deflower a girl. A girl was about to become a woman, with me as was her chosen one.
With such tenderness, I ate her pussy with delicacy to ensure her pleasure would be a memory burned deep within her heart and soul. First up one lip, across the hooded clitoris, then down the other lip. My fingers grasping firmly to her butt as her body responded to my tongue. As she became more vocal, my tongue probed the depths of her vagina as her juices flowed like a river. Coating my face with the nectar that poured forth. Her first orgasm was earth shattering with her thighs clamped so tightly it seemed I may smother.
After she had calmed down, her breathing returned to normal. She scooted toward the headboard and opened her legs to await the act of becoming a woman. Taking her hand in mine I placed it on my cock. Together, we would take this journey. Together we would place my cock at the entrance of her pussy. With the head nestled at the gates of paradise, I teased her by rubbing it up and down the lips of her pussy, then slowly easing just the head inside and marveling at how the lips opened to accept me.
I was being allowed where no man had been before. I watched her eyes as inch by inch slipped in until I found her maidenhead. Pausing, I kissed her. I searched her face for any sign of reluctance at what was about to happen.
That night a girl became a woman. Insatiable, for once no longer a girl, the woman craved to be held and loved. Sex is a beautiful thing to be shared with someone you love. No taboo, only desire to please and be pleased. What had started as a simple fuck turned into something much more. Somewhere lust was replaced by love. Desire and passion, precious as the air we breath consumed us. It was not fucking, it was making love.
Anyone can have sex or can fuck someone, but it is special when you find someone you bond with. With that person, you make love. It's special, it is life changing. It alters a persons thoughts, dreams, goals and desires. No longer is life about you, it is about "us." Plans are made for a future together. Visions of growing old together. That word has meaning. Together.
Coming out of the daydream of days past, I let out a sigh. Opening the car door, I exited the vehicle. Tears had not yet begun to fall. But they were there, just below the surface. It would not be long before the would flow like a river.
Opening the trunk of the car, I pulled out a blanket and the cooler containing the Amaretto. Like a lifeless being, I made my way to her tombstone. Each step a struggle. Stopping before the grave site, I noticed the angel carved in the stone. Appropriate, for Cindy was an angel. She was my angel. And I lost her.
"Happy Birthday, Cindy" I spoke as I unfurled the blanket and spread it on the ground. My words almost sticking in my throat, as I lowered myself down on the blanket. Opening the cooler, I retrieved the bottle and two flutes. Each glass was etched with our names. With the bottle opened and the drinks poured, I placed Cindy's as I always did at the base of her stone.
Then with reluctance, I began to say my farewell to Cindy.
"Cindy, you know I love you. I always will. Nothing will ever change that feeling. As long as there is life left in this body, as long as I draw a breath, that love will remain. Now, always, and forever will I love you Cindy"
Tears began to flow down my face as I continued:
"Remember on the first birthday after your passed away, I wrote that little saying about the 'Three Degrees?'""The Three Degrees of SeparationBetween your heart and mineAlways will I keep Until the end of time"
"That was my way of pushing away anyone that tried to get to close to me. If I don't love, I can't be hurt. I never sought to give nor receive love or any relationship. After you, I never cared to love again. I never wanted to love again. Honestly, Cindy, I never want to be hurt like this again. It may be selfish, but I can't go through this ever again. I tried to remain faithful to you.
"But Cindy, those Three Degrees have failed me. They failed us. Cindy, I have met someone. It wasn't planned. I tried to push her away, but she came back. I tried to break it off numerous times, but I just couldn't do it."
My lips now began to tremble and I realize I am crying openly and unashamedly. The oak tree that is just East of Cindy's grave site began to blow gently in the breeze. It's crazy I know, but I took comfort in the swaying branches that day. To me then, as it is now in my memory, it was as if she was speaking to me.
"You would like her Cindy, even her name is similar. Sandy is so much like you, kind, gentle, loving, nurturing. All that you were, she is. Maybe that is why I could not resist her. She reminds me so much of you. Funny, witty and compassionate, she is just like you in so many ways.
"Cindy, I am asking that you forgive me. I am asking to break the promise I made to you about never falling in love again. I ask that you release me from the vow I made."
As the gathering twilight cast shadows over the cemetery, I heard a bird land in that old oak tree. Today I am not sure, but would like to believe it was a mourning dove. Doves are a symbol of peace. I know I felt a contentment and peace come over me as if I had my answer from Cindy. It was as if she was releasing me from the pledge I had made to her so long ago. That she was giving me her blessing to move on. I could now begin to build a life with another.
Just before it got to dark to see, I emptied the Amaretto. Thought it would probably get me arrested if caught, I dug a small hole next to her stone. Inside that hole I placed the bottle and the two flutes. Then I done something I had not planned. I rolled up in that blanket and fell asleep. I would like to think it was my effort to spend one more night with Cindy. I don't know.
Before dawn the birds began chirping, awaking me. I rose and before long the first rays of a new day were evident in the sky. Colors like the rainbow shown in the early morning light as darkness gave way to light. I placed the cooler and blanket in the car and returned to her grave. Kneeling, my hand caressed the outline of the angel on her stone. I cried. I prayed. I thanked the girl who I thought I was going to marry and grow old with for giving me the chance to love again.
Rising, I made my way to the car. I paused then walked back to her grave. Letting go is hard, even for a memory. Standing next to her grave, I still cried. My hand once again tracing the outline not only of the angel, but her name on the stone.
"Thank you Cindy. For your love, for your acceptance, for all you were and all you must be in Heaven. Thank you for allowing me to continue on with my life. In my heart, I will always love you. Someday we will meet again. Then we can spend an eternity sharing what we were denied the time to have here on Earth. I love you Cindy. I will always love you. Someday we will meet again. Goodbye.
I made my way back to the car, knowing I would never again come here. The sadness of such a revelation was overpowering. That part of my life was over now. But it would remain with me always. A new chapter was about to begin with a girl named Sandy.
I have never been back to Huntsville, Alabama, nor will I ever. It has been well over 20 years, but the pain of such loss is still there. Hidden under the surface. It will always be there. The hardest thing I have ever done was saying farewell to Cindy.
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