timmy
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Has no life at all |
Location: UK, in Devon
Registered: February 2003
Messages: 13751
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I think no-one here can fail to know that I have struggled with love, then adoration, then obsession over a boy I last met in 1970. Today in the UK it is now 25 November. It is his birthday. He is 67, nine months older than I am.
I know it is my responsibility, not his, that I fell into obsession, and has been my responsibility to come through to the other side. I have let it hurt me all my life since I was 13, even chosen to hurt myself with it. Of all the boys I fantasised over, he is the one I felt loyal to, in a bizarre manner.
He is not, today, the man the boy promised to become, but I am not, today, the man the boy promised to become either. I doubt, today, that we were even real friends. I was a puppy, scurrying round his feet hoping for some small attention. How ironic that all I ever wanted was to be his friend. I did not exhibit friendship. I exhibited need. Neediness is not an attractive trait.
Some years I have spent this date in tears and stress. "Why... If only..." and more. Well, I am why, and I created If Only.
So, John, whatever life we have left, I wish you well.
Author of Queer Me! Halfway Between Flying and Crying - the true story of life for a gay boy in the Swinging Sixties in a British all male Public School
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