Typing out the memories is already making me cry. There isn't really anyone to which I can speak about this, so i apologize for using Reddit as a diary.

A couple years ago, my then-fiance (now-husband) and I began to discuss exploring the life of swinging. We never made any moves or had sexual encounters with anyone until our first experience on our honeymoon a little over a year ago.

It wasn't expected. It certainly wasn't planned that we experience other people on our honeymoon.

However, while in the Caribbean, we met a girl at our resort that I'll call GG. It was day 4 of our honeymoon, but only our second day at this resort. We are from the US, and happened to meet this beautiful, lovely woman about 8 years our senior "on holiday (i'll never forget the way she said it)" from the UK. She had been working non-stop since her divorce a year or two prior, and decided she was going to visit the Caribbean to discover herself, alone, for two weeks. When the questions of "what makes you interested in this" came up, she explained it so plainly, so perfectly:

"I'm 36. I'm single. I'm here. Why deny myself the experiences I've always been afraid to want?"

I'll never forget how nervous and skeptical we were before meeting her. I'll never forget that first meeting at one of the many resort bars and immediately feeling relaxed despite her intimidating beauty and grace. We came to find her drink of choice was Baileys, and being ass americans, immediately started talking shit. She fired right back at us in the best of ways. Throughout the following week, our butler would deliver many alcoholic beverages at late hours of the night. He would greet us in the morning when he had a day off, saying "And I will let (other butler) know that GG may need another bottle of Baileys in your room tonight."

We spent 4-5 days with her, referring to her as our girlfriend. We had lunches, dinners and drinks at beautiful bars and restaurants, skinny-dipped in the ocean at 3am, spent countless hours in showers and beds, and an equal amount of time on our patio getting to know each other. We learned so much about each others' cultural differences, slang, and commonalities. I have so many photos and videos of the three of us - both innocent and not-at-all innocent, that I can't bring myself to review.

There was always laughter. There was always passion. There was always that lingering feeling, even until recently, that we would be best friends forever. She was the first person my husband and I experienced together. She was my first woman-on-woman experience. She was addicting, sweet, and intelligent. She has been (so much more than) the control to which we compare everyone else.

We kept making plans to reunite - Bermuda was the ideal, but we had to put it off. My husband and I were looking forward to visiting her in the UK within the next 6 months, though we never had interest in traveling to that part of the world before her.

Over the year we stayed in touch, talking about our current life situations, desires, etc. Her birthday was a few days ago, so comments on her FB page starting popping up in my husband's news feed. According to him, the comments seemed off: somehow depressing rather than congratulatory. He realized why and let me know. Just 2 days before her birthday, her heart stopped.

I'll never know why. There are people she spoke of, people she was so close with, and their grief is obviously much stronger than mine. I spent no more than a week with her. I don't know her friends. I don't know her family. I don't know if any of them know about us. I'm scared to reach out to one of them over social media and ruin her reputation.

I'm feeling worse for the grief i'm experiencing. I hardly knew her - but i truly believed I would be seeing her so much more. She was a light; some sort of symbol in my marriage. Now she is gone.

​

Rest in peace, my Gorgeous Girl. We'll always have Jamaica.