Fin de Siècle

100 posts. Who’d have thunk it?

When reaching a milestone of this magnitude it is sometimes expected that one reflects on the past and considers the journey from there to here. So, at least in part, I want to use this post to go back to where it all began: Darren.

Darren encouraged me to start this blog, explore my sexuality, come out to my friends and family; he was my first proper boyfriend and I fell in love with him. Come to think of it, it’s almost a year since I gave in to his pursuit of me…

Of course what I didn’t know at the time was that his encouragement of me to head out on my own was his effort to distance himself from me. He really didn’t want me; I was rebound boy.

In many ways it was one of the best things that happened to me. Out and proud! Ooodles of sex! Today I’m happier and healthier than ever! I wish I’d come out years ago! There was also the dark side to our relationship, equally symptomatic of our incompatibility. The blazing rows, leading to smashed furniture and even smashed walls; and (though I never posted anything about that before) toward the end his tendency to use his fists to end an argument. Only a couple of close friends knew at the time and they were quite clear it was not OK. But I was OK with it – I’m certainly not claiming serious or sustained domestic abuse, which is one of the worst crimes. It was part of who he was, I thought, though I could never raise my hand to a partner or friend in anger. Of course it just showed he didn’t love me at all; and that he was a very unhappy man.

Breaking up – well, being unceremoniously dumped – was really rough. I haven’t cried so long or so hard before or since. A part of me is frightened that the reason I get so easily infatuated with one guy or another is that I really am looking for a quick fix to plug a Darren-shaped hole in my life; I never gave myself time to be broken hearted; never sat down and worked out what I want from a man, relationship, or even being single. Instead (rightly or wrongly) I was straight back on the horse, and rode that horse to Datesville.

And here we are, 100 posts later. Two dates pending, two other guys who’ve got in touch with me, and another one who’s recently caught my eye. Datesville is surely more fun than Dumpsville; you see I really do want to find that special someone, to love and be loved. And I do worry about being unlovable and spending the long days of my life alone. I suppose, when single, who doesn’t?

I hope you’re not alone gentle reader, and that you have strong arms to be swept up in, soft lips to kiss, deep eyes to gaze into and warm sighs in the night to look forward too...

Yes, I've embedded this once before, but it sums up the mood.