Justification

To be able to function in the world, I feel that a person has to, at minimum, achieve one objective. To justify yourself to yourself. After two things that have happened in the past 24 hours or so, I'm close to the point where that justification is absent.
The first, ironically, was the incident that so buoyed me up yesterday. Thinking about my so-called 'connection' with that little boy, because he was only a little boy, 10 years old at the most, and possibly even younger, all it really amounted to was projection of my desires onto him. If he did really smile in my direction, and it wasn't just my wishful imagination, he was only doing so either out of some sort of politeness, or the fact that he found me laughable. And I, by having the thoughts about him that I did, have violated him, objectified him. And that was even more the case with the second incident, on the train back from work, early this afternoon. There was another boy, older, maybe 13, travelling alone, on the last leg of my journey. He was, to my tastes, stunning, and I found myself standing next to him as we waited to get off of the train. I couldn't keep my eyes off of him, watching his face in profile. He knew I was looking at him, and looked nervous and uncomfortable as a result. Needless to say, once the train doors had been opened, he beat a hasty retreat. OK, so I didn't touch him, accost him, do anything that could be construed as being against the letter of the law, but I still hurt him, put him in a position he didn't want, and shouldn't have been forced, to be in. Another objectification, the more so because I was starting to become aroused, just by standing close to him. Even as I type this, that physical reaction is starting to return. And that is where the difficulty in accepting myself and my actions starts to become an issue. Easy, on a busy train, to maintain self-control in the sense of direct physical action, but if I'd been alone with him somewhere?
On top of that, despite the dramas of the last few weeks, I'm still lying by omission to my wife, she only knows a part, and, in real terms, only a small part of the whole story. If I was convinced, and was proven to be correct, that she'd react badly to my being gay, that's as nothing to her reaction if she knew the real object of my attractions. I've said before that 'I am what I am', but what happens when you realise that what you are is totally unacceptable, even to yourself?

Love & best wishes to all
Sammy B