Coming to terms?

This post has been written after giving several hours of thought to what I wrote in 'Schizoid' last night. First of all, I must express my deep gratitude to Brian and Mark. I feel very ashamed of myself in having succumbed to such an egregiously self-indulgent meltdown, but even in the face of such behaviour, they've spent their valuable time in trying to help me with their caring and constructive comments.
I think it's fair to say that, whatever else may come of it, what I wrote last night and the state of mind that engendered it has convinced me that there's absolutely nothing to be gained, for anyone, by my 'coming out'. Even if I was able to be 100% selfish, and say that no-one's feelings but my own were of any importance, it still wouldn't achieve anything worthwhile, because the turmoil inside wouldn't go away, while there's every chance that I would lose everything that is good and valuable in my life. If I was gay in the way the term is customarily used, and I had found, or might find, someone with whom I could embark on a relationship, then that might tip the balance in favour of an outbreak of honesty (not that I'm suggesting for a moment that gay people have an easy or comfortable ride in life, but there is now, in some quarters at least, some kind of grudging tolerance, if not acceptance), but to be 'out' as a boylover in this country, or, indeed, in pretty much any country, is just not a tenable position - there are far too many self-appointed vigilantes who consider it their duty, if not their right, to castrate you with a blunt penknife, or pour petrol through your letter box and set light to it. If I owed my family nothing else, I owe them protection from that kind of scenario.
My family is the next point I need to consider. As I've said several times before, I love my wife and daughter dearly, and I know they love me. That is far more than many, many people are able to say, and far more, at several points in my life, than I thought I would ever be able to say. To think of throwing that away, on a whim, to tilt at unattainable windmills, or even to salve my conscience, would be stupidity of the highest order. I know I have responsibilities in my life, and trying to look after my family, to the best of my ability, is the greatest of them in my eyes. In that light, giving up something I've got no chance of achieving, to all practical purposes, isn't even a sacrifice on my part.
What might be the practical consequences of all this? As I said in a recent post, my attraction to boys is very longstanding and deep-seated, if mysterious in origin, and I have no expectation of it going away any time soon. With that in mind, I need to come up with a supportable way of 'managing' the issue, so that no-one, including me, is hurt by it. I have, within the past few months, considered what, if any, professional help might be available and suitable, going as far as making enquiries about a fairly well-known and apparently well thought-of counselling service based in our nearby city centre. There are two 'show-stoppers' for me in that regard, though. The obvious one is cost - when we're struggling to pay the mortgage, counselling isn't exactly a high priority item - but the other aspect I can't get past, which is doubtless a product of paranoia on my part, is how far the professional detachment of any potential counsellor would extend in my case. I'm sure there are plenty of people who would happily call me a worthless pervert, without my having to pay for the privilege.
As far as my cyberspace activities go, my blog list now only contains two active sites by younger male bloggers (I know 'The Life of Lauren' is there as well) - Rowan's, which is currently in abeyance, and, with due respect to him, he's one of the older younger bloggers (if that makes sense), and who, even if I chanced to meet him IRL, would almost certainly be outside my 'window of attraction', and DJ's, which is a different scenario for me, because, and I know anyone who reads this has only got my word to go on, my concern for DJ is strictly a 'pseudo-paternal' thing - I might want to give the boy a hug, but only in the same way I would give my daughter a hug. I do look at one or two other blogs on an 'as and when' basis (Kieren's and Sammi's 'Teenage Narcissist' spring to mind), but I'm hardly spending my whole life, even my online life, hanging around teenagers' blogs. 'Nifty' and similar sites are, perhaps, a different issue. I make no pretence of the fact that I read such stories for any other reason than that I find them erotic. Whether this has potentially positive or negative consequences isn't clear to me. Does the time I spend in a 'fantasy' sexual environment get the desire out of my system, or does it make it more likely that I might try to 'act out' that fantasy? In the absence of evidence from a concrete, real-world situation, I can't make any absolutely definitive statements. What I can say, with as much certainty as I can say about anything, is that the idea of rape fills me with revulsion - some of my posts, and I can assure everyone that they are genuine, have detailed how upset I can get about the thought of anyone, but especially a boy, being raped, and I can't see any circumstances where I could do any such thing. Rape, to my mind, isn't a sexual crime in any case, but a crime of violence and anger, perpetrated in an attempt to dominate and humiliate another person, rather than anything born of desire. The need I feel for reciprocity, the wanting to be 'loved back', is probably the best insurance policy I have against finding myself in a situation where I might actually become sexually involved with someone I shouldn't, because, and this is one of the few sensible things I said in my last post, I don't see any feasible real-world scenario in this context where any such reciprocity could be found. Whatever else I might be, good or bad, I'm no-one's sex object.
So - coming to terms? As I said earlier, my boylover side isn't going to go away, so there's got to be some kind of solution whereby I can live with it and still continue to function usefully and rationally. My rushing off to some kind of ill-conceived 'coming out' isn't a sensible option for anyone, and I think that particular brand of stupidity would always be trumped by my fear of the consequences. The only viable way forward at the moment is basically 'more of the same' - carry on in hiding, and deal with the frustration as best I can. After all, the fact that the (unfinished and unfinishable) story I posted in 'Cuckoos' before I went to work this morning, and which has had a considerable influence on bringing this issue to a head, had to be set in a parallel universe to make even a fictionalised version of what I want workable is indicative of how vanishingly unlikely any real-world sequel would be.

Finally, and disgracefully delayed on my part, my thanks to Tony (Tman) for becoming my newest follower (days ago, sorry, Tony!).

Love & best wishes to all
Sammy B