“And in the end, the love you take is equal to the love you make.”
i only knew David ~David in Vegas ~ through his blog, A View from the Top. You can still read his posts here. It is well worth a trip over there to meet him.
He wrote stories. His half of the Frederick and Agnes stories were beyond delightful. They were incredibly, tortuously sensual. i loved them so much. The last segment of a Frederick story was posted July 30, 2012. Ever since then, i have popped over there from time to time to see if maybe there was a new chapter.
Now there never will be. He died quite suddenly on November 5, 2014.
“People may forget what you said, but they’ll never forget how you made them feel.”
i exchanged some comments with him once. i really don’t remember what it was about, i think i commented on one of his posts, and he responded. But whatever he said to me made me feel ~ safe. As if somehow, from cyberspace, an aura of gentle caring emanated from him. Seriously.
i see now that he has a tab on his blog that is about food. Recipes. With some occasional commentary. Glancing through them, i immediately find at least 5 that i might try. There is something poignant about looking at his recipes. It is worth reading his “About” section, as he suggests, to understand why he had recipes on his blog.
i wasn’t close to David, just admired him from a distance. Back in the day, when i was unattached, he gave me hope that someday i’d have a Dom like him. It was just good to know they existed. But then i began to notice the effect he was having on my friend, Monkey.
i love Monkey, and read her faithfully, and i don’t know when it became obvious that her relationship with David was incredibly good for her. i saw her began to grow in new ways, it seemed like she was discovering who she is, and maybe even beginning to sense her own true worth. He contributed to her ability to do that, and that made me love him. The light of their relationship shone through her blogposts. i can only imagine how much he meant to her.
i can only imagine how devastated she is at losing him. And i have no consolation to bring her, can’t recommend a really good self-help book that fits the circumstances, can’t even send flowers.
So i console myself with this poem, which isn’t really for her. It’s a reminder for me, and for you, that sorrow is part of life and part of the huge risk of loving. From The Prophet:
Then a woman said, “Speak to us of Joy and Sorrow.”
And he answered:
Your joy is your sorrow unmasked.
And the selfsame well from which your laughter rises was oftentimes filled with your tears.
And how else can it be?
The deeper that sorrow carves into your being, the more joy you can contain.
Is not the cup that hold your wine the very cup that was burned in the potter’s oven?
And is not the lute that soothes your spirit, the very wood that was hollowed with knives?
When you are joyous, look deep into your heart and you shall find it is only that which has given you sorrow that is giving you joy.
When you are sorrowful look again in your heart, and you shall see that in truth you are weeping for that which has been your delight.
Some of you say, “Joy is greater than sorrow,” and others say, “Nay, sorrow is the greater.”
But I say unto you, they are inseparable.
Together they come, and when one sits alone with you at your board, remember that the other is asleep upon your bed.
Verily you are suspended like scales between your sorrow and your joy.
Only when you are empty are you at standstill and balanced.
When the treasure-keeper lifts you to weigh his gold and his silver, needs must your joy or your sorrow rise or fall.
~~ Kahlil Gibran, The Prophet
i’m so sorry, Monkey… i will always remember David too, and hold you both in my heart. The world is better because he lived.