Dichotomy, with knives

I'm still haunted, at least daily, sometimes several times a day, by the words I read about a 'celebrity' sex abuse case ten days or so ago. There was a link to an audio file, but I didn't listen to it - instead, the words play themselves in my head, over and over, in my own voice. And the way those words make me feel exactly reflect the dichotomy in my life. On the 'credit' side, my genuine wishes to live my life in such a way as to avoid hurting anyone else, but on the other side, the seething mess of insistent desire, wrenching frustration and implacable self-loathing that are the concomitants of my sexuality. And, somewhere in the middle, the likes of Cammy, or the beautiful boy, 11-ish, on his way to a school football match, I saw on a bus ninety minutes or so ago. It's like a jagged-bladed knife, plunged into my heart and twisted again and again. It's tearing me to pieces.

Love & best wishes to all
Sammy B