My temptation of fate earlier in the day didn't rebound on me - my last late shift in my present job passed virtually without incident. Would that some other days had been so benign. I still would have wanted/needed to have moved on, but it might, at least, have been less stressful.
At the risk of repeating myself, though, there was one aspect of today which I wish had gone differently - today was, unless some very unlikely scenario plays out, the absolute last chance saloon as far as seeing DBJ one last time was concerned. And I didn't, needless to say. I've got a well-stocked mental photograph album from the past four years or so, and I know that as long as my psychological faculties are intact that I'll never forget the boy - he'll always be 'the boy' in my head, just like his predecessor from Greater Manchester, the blond delight who'll now be in his early forties - but a last glimpse would have been so nice. Not to be, though, so I need to move on and think about the positives, and try, I guess, not to allow myself to get into any more one-sided, borderline obsessive, entanglements like this one.
Love & best wishes to all
Sammy B
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