I miss you, Aryia.

This is a post I'm not even sure if I want to make, nor is it a post that I should post out here in public. However, as of this moment, it feels right just to write this out, to get it off my chest, so that I can at least move on with my life.

I'm not even sure if anything I put down will even be coherent or make any sense; it's 1 AM and I spent the entire day on little more on 5 hours of sleep.

Let's start at the beginning.

I decided to give Babble a third try, after my first go starting nearly a decade ago and my second go around 2014-16, I don't exactly remember. I started it up again because I was in the process of reexploring my sexuality, and Babble was a familiar avenue that was worth trying again. For all its flaws, it was and still is a decent place to be for online erotica.

I'll admit I didn't give my third attempt much effort, at least initially. My profile was little more than a feeble placeholder, I had no photos, and I barely interacted with anyone, out of fear I'd get shot down on the spot.

And then I spotted you.

When I discovered your profile for the first time, you definitely floored me in more ways than one. You were a pretty girl with a massive rack, especially so in your case. But not only that, you were sweet, feminine, and eager to please, even with your unusual sexuality, asexual one moment and a rabid nymphomaniac another. Your photos caught my eye and imagination for all the right reasons, beautifully seductive without being trashy. I knew I had to chat with you. I was just too entranced by your beauty.

When I PM'd you, I wasn't sure what to expect. But I was pleased you responded in kind. We were in the Brothel, and I was eager to be pleased by you, eager to seduce me with your womanly charms and sexuality. I enjoyed our times immensely, and you were very sexy as both as a coquettish submissive and a loving Dominant Goddess. Even with your asexuality, you still went out of your way to please me, pleasure me, and push me over and over into a hot messy orgasm.

But it wasn't just sexual release on why I enjoyed your company immensely. We had so many chats together, and I felt the two of us had a strong connection. There was one chat in the late hours of the night where we shared so much of our lives, and at that moment I felt we were so very close in such a short amount of time.

I loved that you could be a sweet little brat one moment and be a calm, mature voice of reason in another. I admired you immensely. You and your family came from such harsh hardship, and yet you grew to be a confident, beautiful woman with that I sometimes envy on how proud you are despite your handicaps. Your massive chest hampered you in more ways than one, and it's unlikely you'll be able to partake in pleasures other people take for granted like running and driving a car, and yet it never bothered you at all. Your asexuality impacted the way you see romantic relationships, but it didn't matter to you.

There was one line you shared with me that stuck with me now - "Every single thing that happened in the past happened for a reason, even the bad stuff. Even the bad stuff that happened to you shaped you into the person you are now."

I'll be frank - I'm not sure if I fully agree with you on that line. There were things that happened in my past I wish I could undo or handicaps I suffered that only served to make my life hell. But damn, I wish I had even a tenth of your confidence and boundaries you possessed. I don't think I've met many women - and men for that matter - online or offline, who had such strong convictions as you did. It was the I knew I had strong affection and attraction to you. In fact, I even admitted to you I had a massive crush on you. It wasn't sure how'd you react, but I was so happy you were flattered. In fact, you even offered me a seat as one of your loyal worshippers. I couldn't help but blush and grin.

I wanted to spend more and more time together, sometimes daydreaming of all the future activities and mischief we could get ourselves into.

However as the days rolled by, you were showing up less and less. At first, I thought nothing of it, even if I found it unusual behavior from you. Even with your new job, you still made time to hang out here as much as possible.

But then you stopped showing up completely for days on end. I began to grow worried.

Then you finally returned one day, and for a brief moment, it seemed all was well. I remember chatting with you for a little bit; I had so much I wanted to share with you but it always seemed my words came out a bit stiff. It didn't matter, I was happy to see you again. Your new photo definitely stirred my imagination for all the right reasons too. I really liked chatting with you. I truly meant it. I had to leave later that night to watch a movie, but I was certain we would speak again. But...it wasn't to be.

When I came back online - your profile was completely wiped. My head flew in a wild panic, wondering what the hell happened. You were so happy here, you love chatting here on Babble, so much it was your second home. And now everything you built with love and care was gone?

I tried to stay rational. I tried to stay calm. I found your alt, the one you mentioned on a whim chance in one of our conversations. I hastily sent a message to you, wanting to know what happened, what would drive you to destroy everything you loved.

And then that was deleted too. No response. No explanation. And now, you were truly gone. The girl I fell in love with, the one who inspired and seduced so many, was no more.

I was distraught. I wasn't sure what to do, so I had to write this. I had to write it all out. I don't care if it's pathetic or makes me look like a fool. My feelings for you were real and I cared about you so much. You inspired me in so many ways, and I revised my profile and even wrote an erotica of our times together. It's not finished yet, but I'm not sure if I want to continue.

To anyone who reads this, thank you to the bottom of my heart. And if you're still around and happened to stumble across this, then I'm happy you managed to read this. Read this passage dedicated to you.

I love you, Aryia.

By Carnalism on Feb 2, 2019

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<no subject>
I truly do not mean to be rude or insensitive, but in all truth, he/she was likely fake.

from Odysseus, on 03:28am, 04 Feb, 2019

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