Introspeculation

Let's invent a new portmanteau, to describe what I spend all too much of my time doing. I freely admit to being an inveterate navel-gazer, as evidenced by much of this blog. But something new occurred to me today, meandering as I was at 'cutie time', and seeing a very pretty, but much, much too young little guy on a scooter in an upmarket part of South West London. When I was trying to convince myself that I was straight, most notably in my late teens and early twenties, the members of the opposite sex I 'fell for' were almost all in 'safe' categories, too young, too closely related, already attached - in other words, individuals that I would never have to actually engage with, never have to take the risks involved with attempting to develop a relationship. And maybe there's an element of that in my attraction to boys, especially younger boys - if they're inaccessible, if all I can do is  'look and sigh', I'll never expose myself to the potential hurt of rejection, of the aftermath of a failed relationship. But, equally, I'll never find fulfillment, either. I've never felt worthy of being loved, maybe my pursuit of an unattainable goal is, subconsciously, a coping mechanism. Nothing ventured, nothing gained, they say. But nothing ventured, nothing lost, either.

Love & best wishes to all
Sammy B