Sapphic Voices Romance

Letter To Cleo

My darling Cleo,

Do you remember the pathetic wretch you encountered all those months ago? The small town girl with a gift for art and the street cred. of Bambi! The confused child drawn to the stellar heights of the greatest university in the world. I was so insecure. My classmates all seemed emotionally ten years my senior. They all new the score. Arriving one day as strangers. The next they were friends, lovers! I hated the guys teasing me, hitting on me and I shrank from the girl's icy reserve. I was socially inept, naive. I was miserable.

Then you came. You talked to me. You listened to me. You gave me a sense of myself. Your brilliance was awesome, but you never made me feel less than you. You were so protective of me. Can you remember the first time we went punting? I was really afraid because I couldn't swim well. The day was grey and chilly. The boat looked so unstable and the water so cold. You sat down in the boat beside me and put your arm around my waist. I can't describe the feelings of comfort and security you gave me.

In the following weeks and months you knew the agonies of guilt, shame and denial I went through. I was a small town girl with small town ideas. Yet you were always there for me. You never tried to hit on me or take advantage of my vulnerability. Your patience was infinite. Your kindness boundless.

And, finally, when I recognised the truth you were so gentle and caring. I don't think anyone who has ever lived has been as fortunate as me. I remember our first kiss as though it happened a second ago. Your beautiful face so close to me. The brush of your lips on mine. The softness and fragrance of your mouth will stay in my memory for ever.

Then, later, on that sacred, enchanted night you made love to me. You showed me a constellation of delight. An ocean of love and desire so deep I drowned in its waves. You paralysed me. I wanted so much to give you what you had given me, but I couldn't. Afterwards I cried, I sobbed and sobbed. You held me tightly in those wonderfully strong arms of yours. You were concerned you had frightened me. Gone too far. But, it wasn't that. You see, my love, in Rome there is a wonderful sculpture of a woman in flowing robes. She is prostrate. Lying back with a look of intense rapture on her face as an exquisitely beautiful angel pierces her heart with a golden lance. Filling her soul with divine love. She is overcome. She is unable to act or respond. She is me.

For ever

Christina

If you have enjoyed Christina W.'s "Letter To Cleo", then please be certain to e-mail her at  c.hj[at]live.com  and thank her for posting this Story.

Click here for a list of all of Christina W.'s  Stories and Poetry at  Sapphic Voices Authoresses.