Sunshine, sweetness, sadness

The pleasant weather of recent days has extended into the weekend, for once - it's not tropical, by any means, but it's certainly more than acceptable for early April, warm enough for shirtsleeves in the middle part of the day when we headed into our local city centre. My daughter and her friend had planned a trip into 'town' today anyway, so my wife and I gave them a lift over and left them to their own devices, while we wandered about getting one or two things that we needed, and, of course, having a bit of quality time into the bargain. Needless to say, my roving eye was in action, and while there were plenty of nice looking boys about, only one really caught my attention, and that was only a momentary glimpse, but he was delightful - dark hair, lovely face, just too nice for words (except these, I suppose!).
That was, however, the highpoint of the day, because as the afternoon has progressed, I've felt my good spirits ebbing away, as the knowledge of my having to get up at a ridiculous time in the morning to head back to work has come to the fore. There's little point in carrying on complaining about being away, because it won't change anything, but it isn't getting any easier - I got as far, a little while back, of wondering whether I should come home at all if I was going to find it so hard to go back, but that isn't a realistic option, just me feeling sorry for myself again.
Another slight source of sadness, albeit more of the melancholic, nostalgic kind rather than anything depressive, over the last day or so, has been in my being reminded, for no particular reason, of probably the deepest love of my life, certainly the deepest of the unrequited variety - my relationship with my cousin when he was a teen and I was in my early twenties. I have mentioned this before in the blog, so I won't go over all the details again, but I wrote a little thing in 'Cuckoos' yesterday which was inspired by him, although it wasn't all that autobiographical - he didn't desert me, and is still my best friend - and I then read a post on one of the blogs I follow about being attracted to someone who can't reciprocate because it isn't in their nature which proved to be another little sting to my psyche. It's not even crying over spilt milk, because there was no milk there to spill in the first place, but, every now and again, I can't help thinking about how things could have been different if he hadn't been straight.

Love & best wishes to all
Sammy B