Links in a chain

I'm in my 'London local', for what might be the last time before K and I come here for lunch on Christmas Day, and I've just been handed a glass which has impelled me to write a post which I evaded, in a way, earlier this week. It's a San Miguel glass (although that's not what I'm drinking), and it occurred to me that the last time I drank from a similar receptacle was on the night of the meltdown with my cousin, 10, or is it 11, weeks ago today. The reason I might have blogged about him earlier in the week was a dream, rather a vivid dream, of my being in bed with a younger, but past the age of consent, version of him. But it wasn't an erotic dream, in the usual sense of that phrase, all that was going on was cuddles and endearments. I'm not a great believer in 'interpreting' dreams, to find meanings beyond the literal, but I do think that dreams can be a continuation of waking thought processes, and that's what I think was going on in this instance. I've said before that I consider my cousin to be the greatest love of my life, but he was (is) straight, so a sexual relationship was never going to be viable. I would, though, had it been possible for him, been perfectly happy to have spent the rest of my life with him in a non-sexual partnership. This Christmas will be the first, as far as I can remember, since 1979 that I won't be speaking to him. So much loss.

Love & best wishes to all
Sammy B