Real Life

As I'm at home, pottering about the house, doing the ironing, tidying up, just being me I do dream a little about real life. About how lovely it would be to meet a nice chap in my circle of friends, to do things together as a couple, to be proud of his endeavours, to support him through his woes.

But even as I dream I also know that I have had this - not once, but twice and neither time did it work for me.

Writing this makes me feel really introspective but I do have a permanent see-saw of emotion going through my head. NORMAL it shrieks - just be NORMAL. But what is normal? And why, after 34 years of being normal, have I still not got anywhere?

I'm following my heart at the moment and giving my head a well-earned day off. And enjoying things because they feel right and they make my heart sing.

You said last night "We're going to take a lot of flak" for this. It's something I've thought about for a while too but I don't want to take flak because I don't want to have to explain it. It's too personal to me and to you to dilute it by explaining it away. But in the same breath, I also don't want to "put it out there" to be examined by anyone out of the lifestyle at the moment. Because I just don't want to. I know you understand. You feel the same way really don't you?

And in the meantime I'll continue to potter and think about Mr John Smith and unfulfilling sex and unfulfilling conversations and remember why it is that I love you xxx