RIP our sex life *vent

I really needed to vent. I tried not to be TOO graphic, not sure if I succeeded, I hope this is okay.

I was an extremely late bloomer, my first kiss was in my 20s and I was almost entering my 30s the first time I got a boyfriend and had sex. My first relationship was good, but short-lived and ended in a very traumatic fashion for me (he was a good person, it was just a shitty circumstance that he couldn't handle).
So I naively thought, when I met my late fiancee, that life was finally smiling at me. I was 33 and had done a bunch of therapy since that previous break-up. I felt ready, I knew I could be a good girlfriend, even with all my insecurities and my baggage. He was coming out of a very toxic long-term relationship, and I helped him heal and get his spark back. He would joke that even though he was only my second boyfriend (and he had plenty of GFs before me), I seemed more experienced than him, I guess because ironically enough, I was more open and free with my sexuality. I used to tell him I was vanilla, but with some sprinkles on top, to add some color. On his previous relationship he had so many instances of having sex without being in the mood that he learned to disassociate and would have trouble being fully present and letting go of fear when we were in bed. We worked on it together, and it made me so happy to see him getting better. Obviously our connection only grew with time and while we didn't have as much sex as I would like, the quality was phenomenal. I had never been with a man that got so much genuine satisfaction out of giving me pleasure (I did have some time between the two boyfriends, so I do have enough of a sample size, hehe), it's like it was his mission to make me climax more than him. I would joke to him that we were singlehandedly closing the orgasm gap (he didn't even know what the orgasm gap was, which I let slide, since he definitely wasn't part of the problem). I still had my personal issues and insecurities, and he had his, but we, for the most part, had an amazing sex life. We were open with each other, and would talk about things we wanted to do or try in the future. I miss it so damn much! There's so much I miss about him, but this aspect of it I can't talk so openly about with the people in my life without making them uncomfortable. How I miss his touch, his big hands, the way he would kiss me with so much passion when he would realize he hadn't done it in a while, how he would send me a peach emoji when he was horny and wanted me to join him in bed, the way he knew what parts of me he had to stimulate to get me going, the smell of his sweat, his taste in my mouth, how amazing it felt taking him inside of me, the way he would look at me when he was about to go down on me, the way he would close his eyes when I went down on him, and the gesture he would make when he wanted me to sit on his face.
Maybe I went a little overboard with the TMI, but there’s so much that I miss, on top of everything I wished we could’ve done if we only had more time.
I guess I thought for a minute that life was giving me a chance to make up for lost time, that I was finally going to be lucky in love, after so many years of loneliness, but I should've known that life is not fair. Three years with him was so short. I enjoyed it to the maximum of my abilities, but I didn't expect to be crying because I didn't get to have anal sex with the love of my life and wishing we had done a sex tape (but happy I saved some naughty snapchat conversations we had before we lived together). Crying after masturbating was not on my life's bingo card, but here I am.
Not sure who is actually going to read all of this, but I guess this can be the space to lament the death of the sex life we had with our late partners without judgment with people who will understand.
A Celebration of our sex Life, if you will.