55:28

That's how long the call lasted, from around 6:25 this evening.
I've come out to my wife, as gay, though not as a boylover, and it went as badly as I could have anticipated.
The marriage is over, more or less, my wife started talking about dealing with the 'practicalities' within minutes. When I told her I was going to tell my daughter what had happened, she started talking about me being 'horrible' and 'disrespectful' towards her, even after I'd told her that the girl already knew. I spoke to her anyway, and again when I got back to 'domicile-ville' - she's OK, as far as I can tell over a phone line, but, then, she knew. Knows more than her mother, of course, because she knows about the boys.
My initial reaction was relief, that it was finally out in the open. Two hours and a half hours on, give or take, and I've reached the 'oooohhhh fuuuuuuck' stage.
End of the world news. Everything changes now, in what way remains to be seen.

Love & best wishes to all
Sammy B

Leaping out

Couldn't resist that one, sorry! I'm off on this bisextile day, so I'm going out shortly to see the world, or some small corner of it (West and maybe Central London, largely, in all probability), because if I didn't, there's little doubt I'd be sitting in front of this keyboard for most of the day, and given some of the dark places I've found myself of late, that isn't the healthiest of occupations just now.
I spent a couple of hours yesterday morning in one of those places, writing some more of my latest story. It isn't going to be a long one, and it's around half finished. How successful it will be, either as 'literature' or catharsis, remains to be seen.

Love & best wishes to all
Sammy B

Dark recesses

After yesterday, some of the shadowy places in my head have asserted themselves today. In particular, I've started writing a story which, if I get it finished and published, will definitely not appeal to the lovers of happy endings. The plot is all there in my head, it's just a matter of finding the words to flesh out the framework. If I can bring myself to do it, that is. The aim of this stuff, from my point of view, is catharsis, but each piece of the dark jigsaw I drag out into the world seems only to uncover two others, like some kind of Hydra, a bottomless pit of horrors to haunt and taunt me. And all the while, in spite of the turmoil within, I have to go out and face the world, to put on my mask of 'normality' and pretend I'm something other than my real self, day after day. Because if I don't keep up the charade, who knows what I'll lose - maybe everything. Dark is hardly a strong enough word to describe what's going on.

Love & best wishes to all
Sammy B

I can't even remember what I was going to call this

But it's going to be a rant, mostly by me, about me. I apologise in advance if it's all too predictable and tedious.
The highpoint was high - at Waterloo station, just before midday, I saw the most spectacularly beautiful boy since I first saw DBJ in 2006, and he was very like my inamorato from Cornwall, too, but the high was brought crashing down by the fact that the boy concerned was more or less the same age as DBJ was that first time, around 8 or 9. As ever, he could never, indeed should never, be my boy, and I'm just left feeling filthy and worthless for having the thoughts I had about him. There's nothing more to say, really. The tipping point towards Plan B isn't too far away.

Love & best wishes to all
Sammy B

Two today!

My second blogaversary! It only seems like yesterday, and all that. I read the post I wrote a year ago today, which turned out to be a longish, borderline rambling effort about where I felt I was in my life. And, as I said in similar circumstances at New Year, when I compared my life position to the beginning of 2011, it doesn't seem that very much has changed, so I have no intention of going over the same ground again.

What I have been thinking about, though, is one element of my motivation for starting a blog in the first place, of how a blog might 'help', both me in dealing with the issues in my life, and others in being able to offer support and empathy based on my life experiences. It seems to me that the blog has largely failed in both of those linked aspects, to the extent that, as little as two days ago, I was seriously considering this anniversary post being my last, in the wake of what appeared to be a fairly bland, but supportive comment I'd left on a blog I'd recently come across having failed the 'moderation' stage. 24 hours later, it had appeared on the blog concerned, so I'm sorry for having jumped to the wrong conclusion, but it did set this 'helping' train of thought in motion. Over the course of my two years in Blogland, I've received two or three e-mails from people who have said my blog, or comments I've left, have helped them in some way. One and a half a year doesn't really strike me as being a very good average, even for someone who has no pretensions to being an 'agony uncle', or anything similar. And I haven't even helped myself to any appreciable extent - as I said, nothing much has changed in my life, I'm still closeted and conflicted about my sexuality, as though I've been able to lay out the 'bones' of my situation, but don't have the slightest idea about what to do next, how to apply what I've learned to make life flow more congenially. Maybe I'm just suffering from unreasonable expectations of what my blog, or any blog, is able to achieve. 

What I am thankful for, though, is the input of people who have tried, often, seemingly, in the face of my ingratitude and stubborn refusal to cooperate, to help me over the past two years. Even if I seem to be a hopeless case, I do genuinely appreciate the care and concern that has been offered. Thank you all.

Love & best wishes to all

Sammy B

Another good reason

Not to be a Christian, that is. Apparently, Rick Santorum doesn't think you can be both a 'liberal' and a Christian, that 'I don't believe there is such a thing (liberal Christianity)'. So, given that you can only be one or the other, in his view, how could anyone with a shred of compassion and consideration for others even countenance being a Christian? I've read elsewhere that even many in the higher echelons of the Republican Party are now terrified that Santorum might actually win the presidential nomination, and are doing all they can to prevent that eventuality, because they realise that his unremitting extremism makes him completely unelectable. I sincerely hope they're right.

Love & best wishes to all
Sammy B

Torture, again

Six or seven minutes of it, on the train back from work. It wasn't as bad, or as long-lasting, as my encounter with David last year, because the resemblance wasn't as strong or the journey as seemingly interminable, but I shared a carriage for the last segment of my trip with a boy who was more than a little reminiscent of DBJ this morning, and that was more than enough to sting my brittle emotions. I couldn't help looking, of course, and I'm pretty sure he noticed me looking. There's always something there to remind me, as the old song goes.

Love & best wishes to all
Sammy B