Homeboi's Diary

Well, went round to Marts on Wednesday and stopped over. With the combined efforts of Mart, boyf and myself we made our first ever bong mix. Considering we don't really know what we're doing, and were going off what we'd seen other people do, it turned out very well. To say it had claws would be an understatement. God was that some good shit!

Kyle had been round the previous evening. Got himself too stoned by 9pm and sat resting his head on Marts shoulder, apparently. But previously the conversation had been about boyf's body. Now boyf has a very good body. It was embarrasing to boyf for Mart to repeat what Kyle had said. But I chipped in that I'd always thought he had a good body as well. I was serious, with a jokey slant. boyf went red and cupped his face with his hands. Mart and I giggled.

The flirting thing between Mart and I is getting worse. Maybe it's cos I'm getting so horny on weed at the moment, and I know that it gets Mart horny. I was just wearing my football shorts (absolutely nothing else) cos the flat was so warm, and I was getting very uncontrollable erections. At one stage I felt all the muscles around my ring relax at the same time. Very interesting sensation. With a look of bliss in my eyes, I looked over to Mart and proclaimed 'I've got a right wide-on at the moment!' He spluttered and then started to giggle. 'Time for another bong, then.' 'Yeah, go on then!' I answer.

Man, does he turn me on, and he knows it, and he knows just the way to do it. Last weekend we were moving stuff from boyf's. I'd got a car load and boyf somehow got trapped in the back. So Mart and I took some stuff out of the car and into the flat, to release boyf when we came back. So we did our first drop. Halfway back down the stairs Mart stops, I'm following and join him. He reaches up, grabs my head and snogs me. Just a short one. But there's not many people who can give me a hard on with just a short snog. Worst of it was that I had to walk onto the street, over to my car, containing his intended with my dick forming a large tent in my trackies. Not something easy to disguise. Fortunately, I don't think boyf saw it.

It was planned that as I was doing nothing on the Thursday, that I'd go with them all to Bury (pron. Berry) to collect their wages. Sometimes it is nice to be told what you're doing! boyf had to leave early for work. Mart had to leave to get to an appointment at the bank, so that left Kath and me to get up to Bury together. Kyle was supposed to be joining us, but it turns out that he got trade and overslept. So he met us up there.

Mart and Kath did their banking. We got in contact with Kyle who was about 20 minutes behind us. So Mart told him that we were going for a pub lunch and to meet us there. We are all skint. So what ever can be done on a shoe-string is being done on a shoe-string! Kyle arrives. We order food and start chatting.

'So you coming out tonight?' Kyle asks me.
'Honey. You know I've got fuck all money.' I answer.
'Erm, I didn't ask that.' Kyle trying to sound like me!
'Well, if you can afford me...'
'Course I can.' He responded and gave me a wink.

Kyles intention is to get me into HomieSexual. He knows I'd be in my element there.

We finish dinner and go for a walk around Bury before going back to Mart and Kaths flat. Back at the flat we start the usual idle chit chat. The flat is hot, and it's a very hot day to start off with. So Kyle ends up taking his t-shirt off. This isn't uncommon. He stands up straight and shows his stomach.

'Do you think I've lost weight?' He enquires to us all.
I look. 'A little, maybe.' I answer. 'Come here.'

He comes over. I feel his stomach, a little squeeze. 'Now breathe out'. He doesn't flinch. I squeeze again. 'Go on, breathe out.' I say again. The mischief spreads across my face, Mart sees it and grins slyly as well. 'Ok, well I know what will make him breathe out!', I say and grab his cock through his jeans. I half expect him to balk and run off. He stays still. I give it a slight squeeze then put my hand back to his stomach. It twitches a little in my fingers. Kyle has a bemused smile on his face, Mart is grinning from ear to ear. Mart and I haven't discussed our plans for Kyle yet, but I think Mart knew I was warming up for something big.

Not sure how this one happened, but I know that I bared my arse to Kyle with the statement 'kiss my arse'. He gave it a long, interested look (as did Mart, actually).

It's time for me to make a move home and get myself ready for the night. Kyle and I arrange our plans for later and I leave.

We end up getting very pissed that night. Me and Kyle dancing topless is a sure sign that we're merry. When we're hugging and grinding together you know that we're pissed. Kyle always maintains that he'll not sleep with me cos he doesn't fancy me. But Kyle's body, mind and eyes always tell me more than his mouth does. Kyle has always enjoyed dancing, I've always enjoyed dancing with him. We seem to spark something with each other. Numerous times its been commented on that its like a live sex show - but still partly clothed.

Somehow, possibly a break down in communication due to the alcohol and loud music, we lose each other. I was too pissed to go to HomieSexual anyway so I go home. One day I'll get there. But will I ever get out alive?

Horny, but happy.

Well thank you to those who entered the poll. Here are the results:

Kyle is jealous of Mart and boyf. Should I bone him?
Yes	76 %
No	0 %
You haven't already!?!	23 %

So, it looks like Kyle is destined to get a little extra bit of attention from me. To those who answered 'You haven't already!?!', trust me, it's nearly been headed in that way a few times, just never quite got that far. You know you're gonna read it here when it happens. Oh, just wait 'til I tell Mart. He's gonna love this!

The weekend. I knew I was gonna write about this sooner or later, just hoping that this one doesn't get me as down as last time. It shouldn't do. Though I'm seeing Mart in a few hours so that will perk me up anyway.

The reason for going out this weekend was as a send off to two very close neighbours. They are an elder gay couple - 25 years together - and have been so supportive and friendly in the time that they've lived next-door-but-one. They're the kind of people who are only too glad to help if they can, that you'll willingly stop and natter too with hands full of shopping bags, than you know you're going to really miss when you don't see them anymore. Saturday was their last night out in Manchester, they were leaving for sunny Spain on Monday. Early on Monday.

We went round to their house at about 7.30pm. They'd both worked in service for a big house somewhere down south for many years, before running a taxi company in London, finally moving to Manchester for a complete break. As a result, their house had been filled with remnants from 'the big house' and lots of stuff they'd collected. Most of their stuff was in storage either still here in Manchester or over in Spain so the house really looked empty.

We had a little drink and a bit of a chat. They were really looking forward to going - it had been off and on for well over a year - but to me it all seemed to have come round so quickly. At 8pm we got a taxi into town. Our first call of the night (as a group, the only call of the night) was to the Rembrandt. It's been a long time since I was last in there. The place hasn't changed much, and the crowd hasn't either.

There was a shortish guy, gold chain, shaved head, who both Pete and I thought was very cute but in a very shifty kind of way. No offence to the lad, but he gave the impression that he may be a bit more interested in the contents of your pockets than the contents of your underwear. Then our view of him was obscured by two complete hotties. Pete and I were deciding who would get who. So I pointed out that I was gonna be greedy and have both. Pete told me that I couldn't do that. So I informed him that I was perfectly capable of handing two fellas at the same time: 'You never heard of 'Skiing'?' I queried, very mischeviously. He laughed.

But there's more. Our neighbours had brought a friend out with them - he met us in the Rembrandt. He took a bit of a shine to me. Pete told him that we weren't together anymore, and I really felt him step up his game. Eye contact, the smiles, the comments that are always open to interpretation. He came across as a nice guy. But this wasn't my night for copping off. Pete knew what his game was but I told Pete that he wouldn't be going home with me. As it was, he'd already got a shag lined up and left after a few hours to fulfil that promise. He knows where I live and has offered to come round for coffee. I can honestly say that that is the second time I've been chatted up in Rembrandts and not felt scared about it. Neither of us are the typical crowd from there.

The night was great. We all had a really good time. Our neighbours had to leave. One of them is not very well - in my opinion he shouldn't even be travelling, let alone emigrating - and was a bit drunk. A ten minute round of kissing, hugging, and saying farewells ensued. I think that was the moment that I realised how much I was going to miss them.

Pete and I stayed out. But we wanted to get out the Rembrandt. Went up the street to Churchills. Different atmosphere entirely. We just sat and chatted. We chatted shite. Complete and utter bollocks. I realised I was pissed, and that I really didn't like being pissed. If I hadn't been pissed by that point I could only say that I must have developed some resistance to alcohol, we'd been packing it away a bit: one can empty, another there waiting.

He wanted food, I couldn't be arsed. So he got his chicken dinner and we got a taxi home. At home he unpacks his food, I have some water and say I'm going to bed. He's ok with this and continues to eat. I'm upstairs, stripped and in bed.

I've been up there an hour, and brought back from sleep to doze by the sounds of conversation at the foot of the stairs. The it occurs to me that its only Pete down their. I can't properly hear the words but I know he's talking about/to me, and what he's saying is not pleasant. He comes up stairs and into the bedroom still chunnering away to himself. By this point I'm able to focus on what he's saying. I was right, it wasn't pleasant.

I point out to him that I'm not alseep and that I've just heard what he had to say - I can't repeat it as I don't remember it. I make it clear that I'm not happy about sleeping in the same bed, let alone the same room as him and make my way to the front bedroom. He follows me. He's decided, He wants to talk. I snuggle under the covers, until he tears them away from me. I make a mental note not to get hyper about all this. I'm strong. I don't.

Then he pulls the pillows out from under my head. No problem, I get up and go back to my bed. I tell him again that I'm not sleeping in the same room as him. I grab my bottle of water and take a swig. He's also got a bottle, which he squirts at me. Bastard! So I squirt back at him. In his face. Everytime he tries to talk. I'm still not letting him rile me. So I put my dressing gown on and state that I'm sleeping downstairs.

He starts goading me into hitting him. I'm not gonna do it. I am not gonna do it, not this time. I've done nothing wrong. We've had a brilliant night, and yet again he turns into Mr. Arsehole. At about 4am I tell him that I've had enough, that I want him out, for good. This kinda shocks him. I may have been drunk but the adrenalin from this had half sobered me up so I was thinking in a very level headed manner.

Come 4.30am we're in the car and I'm driving him back to his flat. I say very little on the journey. At one point, he says something I take great exception to. I slam on the brakes and order him out of the car. He doesn't get out, I drive on.

The following morning, he arrives back at mine at about 9.30. He looks like shit, I feel like shit. I'm also shaking with anger. It's reached the point I never wanted to get to. I hate him. I really really hate him. I told him this and that I wasn't too comfortable with him being there. All he wanted to do was to sit next to me, but I told him that if he moved to do that, all I would do would to be move somewhere else.

I let him know that I knew he'd been worried about losing me to Michael. But I told him that he'd not lost me to Michael, but to himself. Think by this point I'd finally got my message through: I meant business and I was not gonna be a push over. This is where it all ends.

We've decided not to see each other for a fortnight. He's not got the point of this and keeps trying to get me to meet him for lunch on Friday. I'm not going. He needs to prove to himself that he can cope without me, that he can cope on his own. After this fortnight, we'll see what happens. It's not a long time, hopefully he'll learn something from it. One thing is for sure though, it gives me more strength to make my life feel like my own.

And the root cause of Saturday night's shenanigans? According to him, because I wouldn't give him a cuddle when he got into bed! There's a distinct smell around that, erm, what is it? Oh yes, BULLSHIT!!!!!

 

It's funny, you know, what people search for on the Internet. What is more wierd is what they search for and turn up my blog. I'm sure some people must get quite a bit of a shock.

A recent search, which is also I think and interesting question is

what does a shaved head on a young man mean?

Which was posed to the Google search engine. In amongst the results were my entries for March 2004. The Google summary (which always takes things out of context) goes like '... Hair A bald or shaved head on the right guy can be a real turn on for you. ... (baldness does nothing for me, but shaved hair, Oh, get me a towel!!) I like ... '. I was a bit intrigued and so I looked up the page.

Strikes me a fascinating that I write this thing, I know what I put in, yet I can still read things that I'd forgotten I'd forgotten about. Re-reading bits of it quite touched me. I laughed at my excursion to McDonalds, felt proud of Mart testing negative, found the exact point in time when I decided to shave all my pubic hair off (btw: 1. I'm still doing it and it still looks/feels good, 2. the Gaydar profile that inspired me is no longer active, shame, he was very sexy).

Then I stumbled on the statement

What really depresses me most at the moment...? When Homeboi meets Arsehole!

(22nd March 2004)

Then I remember the depression I had back then, and how Pete was really doing nothing to help me with that. If anything he was making me worse. I was pretty bad in March, I remember. The lack of entries I think kinda shows that.

It also makes me angry. I'm angry at the moment, but doing very well at not showing it. Who am I angry at? Pete for making me as bad as I was. A lot of things are slotting into place at the moment. But now also at me for letting the charade between Pete and me go on for as long as it did. Something did happen this weekend, I've not written about it yet, but it's a good move and a positive step (in both senses of meaning).

I started getting depressed after the previous Saturday, I got down after writing it all up here. I heard Mart telling me, again, what I needed to do. Knowing there are folk around me who really care is a big help. I was feeling more up by midweek. Then this last weekend happened (it's not as bad as the previous) and I just thought to myself that I wasn't going there! Uh uh. Not this time.

So it's taken four months. Have I got what I want? Just saying that comes across as some kind of childish demand. Maybe 'cos that's what Pete always used to say: 'now you've got what you always wanted'. But no. I want Pete as a friend, nothing more, nothing less, but I'm fearing that that is what I'm going to lose. I don't see the friendship there, I see all the things I don't want but not the one thing that is the most important.

I'm rambling. I'm outta here!

What is it about me and sunny weather? I've noticed it quite a lot this week, an impending under current of horniness that kind of exploded today!

Monday
Driving to a midday meeting. Just down the road from the office was walking this lad, probably about 22: trackies, baseball cap no t-shirt. Yum! If it hadn't been such an important meeting I was going to I would have turned the car around and followed. Shirtless scally lads do it for me every time, and especially if they are wearing a chain around their neck.

Tuesday
Again, driving to work. A mid-morning meeting. Just up the road from me. I was waiting in a queue at traffic lights and I spots this bloke crossing the road at the lights. My view is obscured by a daft bitch deciding to touch up her make-up while shes waiting. But I spot bare muscled arms. He completes crossing the road and I fear he's going to carry straight on to my left. But no, there is a Dog in heaven! He walks past the side of my car. He's 35 - 40 and big set. I don't, as a rule, go for muscle men but this one was just gorgeous. Dark combats and a very tight white vest-top. Muscles in all the right places (including one in his combats which seemed to have a mind of its own). I was already hot and sweaty. Now I was moist as well.

Wednesday
Everyone seems to be building at the moment. Sunny weather is handy if you like the builder types (quickly looking round). I've got a real kink for builder's boots at the moment. Don't ask where it's come from. I'm the kind of person who wouldn't be any use on a building site - not enough physical strength and a compulsion to wash hands whenever they get sweaty or dirty. Couple the boots with dusty dark trackies and a high-visibility tunic (you know, the yellow flourescent ones) with no top underneath and you've got me hook line and sinker.

Today
Was horny after meeting Mart (well, that's a surprise) so went off in search of cock. Maybe it was timing, maybe just bad luck at my usual outlets, but I tried all day and got nothing. Well, I got more frustrated as the day went on. Did spot a lad (17 years or so, so far too young for me) in a light blue football shirt (Manchester City), black Reebok trackies and trainers. Sweet, cute but not worth doing the time for! However, my search for cock did not go completely unrewarded. I did eventually get some. Boy did I get some. It was HUGE. He was about 35, just the right side of slightly hairy, round face with short dark hair, blue jeans and black 3/4 length leather jacket. But the dick, phew, it went on for miles and it was thick too - as thick as my wrist. We wanted to do more but there was an old dinosaur who kept bugging us. I told him that I hoped we'd meet again as I left, he winked.

We will meet again.
Don't know where don't know when. But I know we'll meet again some sunny day.

So this morning I go round to Marts. Nothing was likely to happen, I knew that before I left home, his flat mate was there even though boyf was at work. Still it was good to see both of them, Mart especially.

About half an hour after I arrived, Kyle rang Mart on the house phone asking him whether he'd seen the 'rude' text message he'd just sent him. Now I know that Kyle can be impatient, but methinks this is pushing things a little too far. The message:

'you got to go to the city and get your dirty white ass fucked until your teeth drop out'.

We all like George Michael's new record, we liked the original. But the question was still why had he sent this? We ended up having yet another conversation about Kyle's interests. Mart is unsure about whether to say anything, just in case we're all wrong. We're all pretty damn sure that we're not wrong. But I added that I think we need to try and find out why this has come about now.

Kyle was recounting to Mart about his antics of last night. He ended up in a club called HomieSexual. I'd seen fliers for it with Ben some months back and forgot about it. Kyle happened to mention that it was full of black men and so they ended up discussing what I'd be like there. It's no secret, I do like my black dick. As they say about Burger King, it just tastes better! Though I have to admit that no black man has ever entered my chamber of squelch (Mart's favourite description at the moment). Turns out that he had one bloke in the toilets, then ended going back home with another. Allegedly his love tunnel is a bit of a crash site at the moment. Shouldn't be such a slut then, BITCH!!!

But the topic of the club came as a quick change of topic, almost mid-sentence, from what Mart was saying. Kyle had started by asking about boyf moving in,  to which Mart said that he was. Then came the sudden change of topic. Are we reading too much into the jealousy thing? I'm not saying I have doubts, but certainly Kyle is not centre of attention at the moment, and he does enjoy being centre of attention. I'm sure he was a Femme Fatale in a previous existence. That's the only way I can explain his need for attention.

Not to worry, though. Mart is planning on getting his own back. Not sure of all the details yet, but I'm going to be there when whatever happens happens. I think it's going to go along the lines of putting Kyle into a position where he'll either roll or run. Quite how, I don't know. But Mart is resourceful, and also has as much of a mischievous mind as me. Can't think where he gets that one from!

All will be revealed as it unfolds

In light of this mornings conversation I'm going to run the poll for a week. That means I'll close it down sometime late on the 30th. It's completely anonymous, but I think you can only vote once (fortunately or unfortunately depending on which way you look at it).

I'm in a micheivous mood this morning. And after last night I thought of this. I'm going to poll whether I should go with Kyle. If the poll result says 'yes' then I will start proceedings (yes, I've got an idea). If the poll says 'no' then I'll keep my idea on the back burner so to speak.

Just wanted to say a big thank you for all that have commented recently. I'm sure you can all see it was a dificult entry to write and I have felt really bad about it over the past few days: both the writing and recounting it. So thank you all once again.

Just got off the phone to Mart. What an evening it's been.

Got a phone call this morning - 9.15 - from Kyle. He was on his way to work and was wondering whether I fancied meeting when 'I'd finished at the office'. Bearing in mind, he's one of the precious few, curtesy of Mart, who know what my leave plans are between now and September 1. So during the day we arrange to meet from 6pm.

To be honest, I wish I hadn't bothered. True. It was nice to meet Kyle, after all, he is my eldest daughter. But it came across as a bit shitty when we were out that he went into Via Fossa just to talk to one of his 'fuck buddies'. The fb fucked him off and left him a bit high and dry and things didn't get much better from there.

But before Via, we'd spoken about the weekend. Kyle agrees that Pete has become more than enough of a 'dick' to be true. I commented that it was probably about time that I asserted my strength and independence, again, to which he agreed. I raised the point about my naughty thoughts (about Mart and boyf) and he just glared at me .  So maybe that it a good idea after all. (Ok, call me a slut if I do). Then I mentioned about his antics and he just went quiet. Hmm. Maybe I hit a nerve that is best left alone. (Haa. Haa. Haaaaaah!!)

Anyway, after the incident with his trade (quite nice, but not my thing) we reclined to another pub. Half way through the drink I realised just how bored I was. I made an excuse about being tired (not far from the truth) and said I was gonna get a pizza and go home. This appeared to be fine with Kyle. He made a few comments about being able to cope on his own, but I just thought I wasn't gonna be a stooge to his act.

While I was waiting for a pizza I sent a text message to Mart: 'Oh, I'm pissed and bored with Kyle. I know you're probably with boyf, and don't wanna hear this, but I'm still crazy about you.' Half way home in the taxi my phone went. It was Mart. I told him I was halfway home and he said to ring him back when I got home. He wasn't with boyf, he was at work. I did.

We had quite a long conversation. Initially, he said he didn't know I felt that way. Maybe seeing it in words meant different things to the actions. True, I know I can never properly be with Mart and love him, but he still drives me crazy in a way that I know is wrong. Apparently, there is a certain facial expression that I sometimes give when I talk that always gets to him. He's gonna explain when we see each other next. We spoke about the snogging on Saturday, and I told him about the naughty thoughts I'd started having.

'So you're up for a threesome?. No don't answer that, I think I know.'

Then he started having the same thoughts. It appears that he kinda likes the idea. He asked should he suggest it. I told him that that would not be a good idea. It would be best to wait until a similar situation to Saturday arose 'then he wouldn't have much choice!'. Mart giggled evilly. We both did. We're not evil, it's just that there's 'history' of sorts between Pete and boyf that would make life untennable for all of us if it got around that anything had happened. The seed has been sown. Ok, so now you can call me a slut. Mart just says I'm a saucy bitch, and Kyle, well, we've already had the conversation about it taking more than one man to satisfy me!

Mart realised that I was on a bit of a downer after the night out with Kyle. Think he knew that after the weekend my spirits did need a big lift and was upset that Kyle hadn't been able to to that. Still, we ended the call with him knowing for sure that I felt better. Possibly something to do with hearing his voice, talking a bit dirty with him and generally being very very naughty with each other. Oh, it's so good I don't record phone conversations, I could get myself into all kinds of trouble.

Mart finishes at 8 in the morning tomorrow. I'm calling over for coffee for about 9. Boyf may not be there, but his flatmate is, so I is gonna have to behave. Bugger!

Ok. Usually when I go out when I write up what happened it's a day or so afterwards, or I'll set the date of the post so it looks that way. [Illusion is everything!!] Usually, I also have a pretty good idea of how it will start and how it will end. This post has taken a few days to think about, and I'm actually not sure whether I'm going to finish this or not. I also don't have any idea how its' going to turn out. So, here we go...
 
Let's start on Saturday. Pete had stopped over on Friday (as usual) and the idea was that we would go round to Marts in the morning. He wanted to show me the local market (and some of the lovely local eye candy). The aim of the day was to get ready for a night out. Originally planned to be at Marts for 9.30, rang up at nine to see whether he was awake, no answer. We tried a number of people and a number of mobiles and couldn't get in contact with anyone. Knowing how Mart can be, this always gets me a little worried. So Pete rang Marts work - he was supposed to be working on the Friday night. The message came back that he'd not been in work due to a car accident. That he was in hospital, but it was unknown which one. I started to fill up when I heard this and the panic started to set in. It's not just our 'special relationship' that caused this, I'd do it with anyone that I'm close to.
 
Anyway, we try the hospitals, no one registered. Eventually, we get in contact with Kyle. He explains that the accident story was just an excuse to bunk off work (tut tut, but inventive!) and that's probably at home asleep as they went out last night. Relief!
 
Mart finally rings and we go round. Quick brew, quick chat and then off to look at the market. There's me, Pete, Mart and his new boyf. Interesting, some good bargins (and even nicer stall holders). We all kind of coo at one in particular. He's the kind of rugged scally-type that always turns me on, even if he is far too young for me.
 
We get some vodka on the way back to Marts. It's been decided that 'cos my house is bigger and closer to town we'll pile in there, get a little drunk and get ready later. Tonight, after all, is to be a inexpensive as possible - Mart has the 'little drops of happiness' that will help later on. So the boot of the car ends up filled with bags of clothes, vodka and (fuck knows how many) bottles of coke. We make it back to mine.
 
It's about 2pm when we arrive and we're planning to go out about 8pm. We all agree that it won't be a good idea to get too pissed before we go out. The weed is also about, so it's agreed not to get too stoned. In typical gay man fashion, somewhere between 5.30 and 6 we start to think about getting ready. Kyle rings up and says he'll be down shortly as he's coming out with us.
 
Earlier in the afternoon the topic of Kyle and his current behavious with Mart crops up. It seems that Kyle said some things the previous night, in front of Marts boyf, that maybe he shouldn't have done. Everyone is cool with the situation, or appears to be, we're just unsure about Kyle's motives.
 
boyf goes to get a bath first. I'm next on the list. While it's just me Pete and Mart we talk about snogging. If Pete never knew that I'd snogged Mart before, he learned about it that afternoon and he seemed ok with it. Mart chipped in that he'd never snogged Pete while they'd been out. So, Pete goes and snogs him. Bear in mind also, that we've had enough vodka to be happy (read that as 'to sink a battleship'). I stare at the scene in front of me. They break apart. Mart is wide-eyed, sees me and grins widely. Pete goes off to get another drink. 'Your turn now.' Mart winks at me. We try and snog each other, but we're too busy laughing and looking out for Pete or boyf to do anything. Mart passes a comment about me kissing Kyle when we've been out. Pete just responds to the fact that he knows all about it (really? I don't think so!) Then I state that I've never kissed boyf - we've known each other for a while - but that more than likely I will tonight. I'm only half serious and Mart knows that I'm not competition. We all laugh.
 
Then boyf comes down stairs. Wearing just a pair of black briefs. Mart tells him that Pete has just snogged him, he grins. I contemplate whether to snog boyf just so he's not left out. I see the briefs at eye level and decide that it's probably not a good idea. My turn for a bath, so I get up to go, but before I leave I tell them that 'you need to tell Kyle what's gone one, and that he's not allowed to sit down until I've snogged him.'
 
So I'm there happily enjoying my bath. Pete's sat in there with me, talking to me when Kyle comes up the stairs. He's been out already so is a little tipsy. I call him into the bathroom. 'They told you?' I enquire. 'Wha?' he murmurs. 'That you're not allowed to sit down until I've snogged you.' He makes the mistake of coming too close to the bath. It's then he realises that I really am naked. I get up a little, reach to put my arm around his neck to draw him towards me and go to snog him. He screams (really, he can scream) and runs off. I collapse in the bath laughing my arse off. Pete can't stand up for laughing and collapses back on the toilet seat.
 
When we're all ready Pete goes to ring a taxi. It's then I notice that he's pissed. The rest of us are just merry (even Kyle) but Pete is pissed. I tell him to cool down a bit and try and sober up. He says he will. I know he wont. Taxis are a non-starter. So Kyle suggests getting a bus into town. So we do.
 
On the bus we head upstairs and to the back. We fill the back end of the bus (there's only five of us but we take over). About half way into town a lad sat on his own on one side gets up, walks to the other side to another lad sat on his own, kisses him, then strolls down the aisle to the stairs and gets off the bus. Kyle Mart and I just look at each other with droppped jaws. 'Did I really just see that?' I whisper to Kyle. He nods. I look down the bus. There are two rather evil scallies (one is sweet, the other a minger) looking this way. I start to giggle, Mart joins me. Pete looks across: 'Wha??'
 
Shortly after this I get the strong feeling that Pete is going to be a problem tonight. I try and blot it out. Why should he ruin my night? He complains at one point that no one it talking to him. So I suggest he peals himself away from the wall, goes round the table a bit and talks to the others. He nods as if it's a good idea, but I know he won't move. This is followed by his complaints everytime that Kyle speaks to me that all Kyle is doing is slagging him off. When I tell Pete that this is not the case his response is just 'well that makes a change'.
 
Some music comes on, forget what, but Kyle likes it and knows I'll dance. I get grabbed by Kyle and we dance with each other. This gets Petes attention and he finally moves to join us on the dancefloor (only a metre away). I try hard not to think that this has happened because he's jealous. We all dance for a bit and then decide for a change of scenary.
 
We change venue. The Union. It's pretty busy. We get drinks. I spot Ben across the bar and let on. 'Mmm, Ben.' I think to myself. Remember. I got a pretty good idea of what I'm going to be like in about an hour! I don't pursue Ben and head towards the dancefloor with the others. We all drop apart from Pete. He then complains because he's the only one who hasn't taken his pill. Mart explains that he needed to change his mood, and that he wasn't being left out (though the look in Marts eye told me otherwise) I'd already been whispered 'get rid' at.
 
We dance a bit in the Union, but the crowd in there, the music and the drag DJ's were boring the tits off us. Time to move...
 
Churchills. We're at the bar. Pete's in front of me ordering drinks when I get a tap on the shoulder. I turn round, it's someone we both know and haven't seen in years. I'm starting to feel the effects of the drugs but I'm doing OK. Pete turns to see what's going on, Kyle has joined us - Kyle kinda used to fancy this lad - Pete lets on and we all chat for a while. Then Pete returns to the bar and hisses for me to come and join him. At that moment there is a sudden change in the music. I've got hold of one of Pete's hands and I think I've got my arm around Kyle (neither of us are sure). I'm coming up. Big time. It's like a whooosh from the floor to somewhere in the stratosphere. Mart dashes over 'You've just come up' he whispers. All I can do it nod. Pete hands me my drink and I'm still nodding.
 
We retreat from the bar to somewhere where we can all sit - directly opposite the bar. Five of us in a row, nodding and chatting shit to each other. We're all grinning like Cheshire cats, but sat down bopping to the music. Drugs make you lose your inhibitions, god knows what we all looked like. Kyle was the first to move. Next stop: Dance Floor.
 
Why did we end up right in the middle? Whose idea was it to start snogging? I was right earlier, I did end up snogging boyf. Not just once, quite a number of times, and both of us were enjoying it. Enjoying it a lot. Mart looked at me when we broke apart. His expression was a mixture of shock and 'you-go-girl', but I think he'd just been 'got' by Kyle. Kyle was doing the rounds. I was next on his list. Kyle snogged me. Then Mart and I had a mini-snog (we don't want to look like we do it too often), then Pete. Then another almighty one from boyf and then Kyle again. When I broke away from Kyle, Pete came between us 'Look, he doesn't fancy you' he kinda shrieked. None of us are sure who he was directing that at, but we all found it a bit funny. Whether we danced on the dance floor or just snogged I can't remember. But I know I started to get naughty thoughts (can you guess what they were?)
 
Change of venue again. Yes, we like to get around a bit. We'd spoken earlier about doing something unusual that night, normally that meant doing a venue we don't normally think about. That venue this time was Napoleons. Here's where the story gets difficult.
 
We arrive in Napoleons. There's a pot collector there who has a big big crush on me, but he knows that I won't do anything while Pete is around (he knows the situation). Well, everywhere that I went, this pot collector went. I'd let on to him when we arrived but that was the sum of our conversation. Pete chirps up that 'if you want to go and fuck him, then go and fuck off with him.' I felt insulted. And moved away a bit. Pete followed me. I told him to leave me alone for a moment. He didn't, and took another pot shot at me. I stood and thought for a moment. I'd been having a good time, despite the adverse nature of my ex-boyfriend, but that last shot was the final straw. It broke the camels back. I'd maintained all night that we were all going to stick together and go home together, but I didn't want to be anywhere near Pete at that moment. I put my drink down. 'Right. I'm going' I said and went off to tell the others, walked back past Pete and left to walk home.
 
When I got home he was already there. Apparently he'd walked as well, but chose a different route. I really didn't want to talk about it, and certainly didn't want to argue about it. So I calmly said what I had to say and thanked him for ruining my night. He said what he wanted to say, then I told him I was going to bed. Then it flared up. Big time. He storms into the bedroom and begins a tirade at me. I get up, put my dressing gown on and tell him that I'll sleep down stairs then. A lot of what he is saying I'm not listening to, I've heard enough from him, I'm sick of the sound of his voice.
 
I lie down. He puts the light on and sits on an arm chair. He makes some comment about Michael and the others only wanting to know me because of the hole in my arse, which he punctuates by roughly poking at my arsehole. I try and ignore it. He's thirsty, so he picks up a bottle of coke from earlier, pours a glass, re-corks it and then launches the bottle at me. He probably didn't mean it to hit me, but it hit me square on the nose. I heard a crack, felt my nostils. There was blood. I sat up. He came towards me, possibly to make sure I was ok, but I didn't want anything to do with him. I picked up a cushion and threw it at him. He blocked it and knocked it back to me and then punched me just below my left eye.
 
Stunned for a moment. I needed to be alone. I dashed for the hallway. I needed to call someone, but couldn't think who. The phone was grabbed out of my hand and slammed down again. He tried to put his arms around me. I struggled to break free. I wanted to get out of there. I needed to be on my own. I ran back into the living room I wanted to get out of the house but I couldn't find my house keys and the front door was locked. I was starting to get hyper. Scared, frightened. All I wanted was to be away from him.
 
He'd followed me from the hall. I quickly looked round the living room but couldn't see where I'd put my keys. I was starting to panic. Maybe I'd taken them into the bedroom with me. I ran up stairs to see. He chased after me. All this while he'd not stopped shouting, I'd probably been shouting back but it's all too blurry. On the landing he was too close to me. If I'd gone into the bedroom he'd have been there with me. I darted for the bathroom. Slammed the door closed behind me and sat on the floor against the door. He's heavier than me and was able to push the door open and push me across the floor in the process.
 
The door was slammed behind him. 'Right' he snarled. I was more than scared now. I had to get out of there, anyway I could. There was no point trying the door, he was in the way and there was no way I would have been able to push him. I saw the window. Yes, I know. Maybe I was thinking that if he saw what state I was in he'd back off. I know he saw me looking at the window. I went to the window, but I couldn't fathom how to work the handles. There was a can of shaving foam within reach so I grabbed it. 'Oh, so you're gonna hit me with that, are you?' he shouted, cockily.
 
I brought the base against the middle of the window. Hard. Nothing, it bounced back but I still had hold of the can. Pete realised I was trying to break the window and launched himself at me to grab my arms to stop me. I let fly with my second strike. His timing wasn't good. The glass broke. He got hold of me just as my hand was at the zenith and pulled me back. I think I felt pain, I'm not sure, just know that the sleve of my dressing gown felt damp. In the struggle to break free I know he caught my nipple ring but I didn't dare to look at it.
 
I did break free, went through the bathroom door and slammed it behind me. Ran down stairs back into the lounge and slammed that door behind me as well. It was then that I noticed. Blood. My blood. All over the finger tips of my left hand and on the back of my hand, wrist and forearm of my right arm. Shock hit me. Like a brick. I slumpped, stunned, open mouthed, on my knees against the door. This was the first time I'd cut myself since learning of my status. This was my blood and it scared me. In the same way that Carrie raises her arms when she's covered in the pigs blood at the Prom near then end of the film, and cries, that's what I did.
 
Pete had noticed the blood on the bannister and the other side of the door as he followed me. He pushed the door open. I put up no resistance, but it wasn't easy with the way I was knelt behind the door. On seeing the blood, and the terror in my face he went back into the kitchen and got water, cotton buds, antiseptic and plasters to clean me up. I was rigid with terror, apparently when I did try to speak all I was saying was 'blood. bad blood'.
 
I noticed while he was cleaning how lucky I am. There's a cut on my right wrist 2cm away from the main vein. He'd gone into autopilot, doing things in the way that he always said he would if an accident like that ever happened at home. I recall him wondering why he always gets me wound up in this way. I'm grateful to him for cleaning me up. Fortunately, none of the cuts are serious, but there is one on my forearm that will leave a scar. The blood on my left hand was from my nose.
 
Now I've written all this, I wish I hadn't. It's taken me three hours to type this so I'm not just going to dispose of it. I'm not sure how parts of this make me look, and I'm not sure how parts of it make Pete look. Things could happen as a result of me writing this that I don't want to think about. But they happened. It happened. Even in the state I ended up in I know that I have to do something, anything, to make sure that this never ever happens again. I feel like a drama queen for how some of this sounds, but I know that there's no way back from this moment.
 
Everything changes.

Just been reading dvboy and his Guide to being a gay student in Lincoln and it reminded me of the very first time I saw a drag queen in drag and then out of drag when I was a baby gay. I got a summer job working in a bingo hall and had a real laugh with there. Particularly, I got very close (platonically) to girl who worked there, Sam, who lived not far from me. Sam was a strange girl, confused about her own sexuality, and it probably didn't help that most of the customers thought we were seeing each other - despite the fact that it was public knowledge that I was the mainstage callers 'bit on the side'.
 
Something went very badly wrong, though. Sam developed a crush on our female Assistant Manager. A very big crush. Things got out of hand and poor Sam ended up losing her job. This, however, was not a problem and she got a similar position with a rival company but the catch was that the job was just out of Manchester.
 
I got a phone call one night asking whether I fancied going to the pub near where she was working, she'd got someone she wanted me to meet and that it would be good to catch up. I agreed. Told her I was working that night, but should be able to get out early - they owed me some hours - and I'd meet her at work at closing time.
 
So I arrive at her club about 9.30, explain to the door staff I was there to see Sam. I looked like a typical young gay, and got very strange looks from the customers who were leaving or milling around: 'Sam? With a fella? A queer?' It's then I meet Sean. He's just done a full day on his feet and sits down, complains that he's got ten minutes before he's got to go and change, lets on to me, and then proclaims: 'I really should know better than to wear me tights under me pants [trousers] when I'm doing a full one [day]'. I'd never heard language like this, and probably looked quite shocked. I mean, a man wearing tights!
 
We walk over with Sean and I get to know that he's one of the drag acts for where we're going tonight. He's a good looking lad, older than me, tired but still chatty. In the pub-come-club we sit with a drink and chat some more. Sean finishes his drink and tells us to wait there. They'll try and shove you upstairs in a bit, but just wait until I send someone down for you. We wait, as ordered.
 
The night upstairs starts out as a disco, I'm still wondering what's happened to Sean and keep looking around for him. Sam is equally confused. He was so attractive as a man I just couldn't wait to see what he was going to look like. Sam also happened to know my taste in men, and I'm sure she just knew that I'd find Sean more than a little bit interesting. So Sam and I are dancing away to something, cans of larger in our hands when this stunning girl about my age with long curly brown ringlets flurries past 'here pet, can you just hold that for me, I'll be back for it in a minute.' It takes minutes for it to register, Sam clicked first, it was Sean.
 
The act was good, even though I could tell that Sean hated doing some of the routines he was very good, very feminine and very convincing. Just before chucking out time, he came across and took me into the dressing room at the back of the stage. I think Sam was chatting a lad up, can't remember. Sean wanted me to help him with his dress - he'd had an argument with the drag queen who usually assists. The wig came off and it was curious to see dark mens hair where a curly wig had been especially still with the full make up. I undid the zipper on the back of the dress and he pulled the front forward and showed me his 'boobs'. Ok, he threw them at me: two pieces of foam rubber shaped to the right shape with a large brown nipple drawn on each one. He was stood in front of me with just his tights and underwear on. He was gorgeous. I freaked a bit and said I was going to find Sam.
 
After the pub we went back to where Sean lived. There was lots of eye contact between us, lots of flirting but there was someone else there who I knew had got Sean's heart. So nothing happened between us other than an unspoken promise of maybe. After about an hour Sam and I got a taxi and left to come home. We'd had a good night. I never saw Sean again. Been back there a few times, but never seen him.

Edit: Thank's dvboy for pointing out that I'd cocked up the second link. Think I've got it now!

Wow. Whirlwind!
 
Last night was fun, it really was. Met up with Ben. He wasn't supposed to have gone out. But I kinda persuaded him to. Oops! No drugs, just alcohol. We tried for drugs but there were none about. Never mind.
 
Anyway. Long story short. Met Ben, chatted and had a drink with Ben (well, quite a few). Embarased myself on karaoke - really must remember to only do songs I can sing when I'm pissed. Ended up drinking half of a half a bottle of crap champagne which Ben procured from a chicken he'd been trying to get into bed. Cute, but too young for me, and I don't do 'suits' or 'shirt and tie' if you know what I mean.
 
Went back to Ben and James's new apartment. Very modern and very gay but also very gorgeous. Got into bed with Ben. To be honest, I wasn't expecting anything to happen. The last few times Ben has been that wasted he's just gone to sleep. But this time we fucked. I'd forgotten how much I like Ben inside me. I'd also forgotten that sniffing poppers makes Ben incredibly horny. He's a good fuck without them, but boy can he bang like a bastard on poppers. I don't like it too hard and too fast, I like to be able to feel it all sliding in and out, in and out. Ben does like to bang, maybe it was the poppers or maybe it was just cos I wanted him so much that I let him do it like that. And I did enjoy it.
 
But I also had something to tell Ben. James already knew as I'd told him when I last saw him. I was pilled up, he was stoned, Ben was wasted, so James was the most level headed of the three of us. I told him last night:
 
'Ben, there's something I've got to tell you.'
'You've got the Flu?'
'Yes, the Flu'.
'We'll just have to be careful then, wont we!'
And then he fucked me.
 
Have to admit to feeling guilty for leaving it as long as I did, also feel guilty for leaving it so long between telling James and telling Ben but I won't tell someone something like that unless their sober enough to understand the implications of it. Not sure of why he refered to it as 'the Flu', but when I met Jeff and he told me about his status a previous conversation between Ben and Jeff had been about 'the Flu'.
 
Someone once told me that being diagnosed positive was similar to coming out again. You know, that feeling of freedom when it's not a secret anymore. That's how I feel now. No secrets and no lies. I care deeply about both of them and I feel so much better that I'm being honest about such an important thing. What's more, it's not an issue to them: we fucked before I was poz, I know we didn't fuck after I became poz, but we did after I knew I was positive. That's good.
 
James was back from work early this morning. God knows what he thought, walking into the bedroom seeing me and Ben asleep. Having said that, based on a previous occasion, he's probably used to having me appear unannounced. When I woke up Ben was asleep cuddling James. I kissed both of them as I got out of bed. I'd already made a promise that I was going to spend some time with them over Pride and I repeated that promise to James. The glint in his eye said more than words. The feel of his hand on my crotch as we kissed when he let me out told me that I was always welcome.
 
So roll on Manchester Pride 2004. Looks like it could be a very very busy time for me!

Phew. It's seems like ages since I last wrote anything here. Nothing's wrong, nothing's changed. Just been away training in Liverpool, again. Thank God that's the last time until October/November.

What's happened while I've been away? Well, not much it seems. Got back yesterday afternoon and was greeted by Mart, his boyf and my Arsehole. After an hour of trudging through work email - was 'instructed' to attack email when I got back - I finally got round to sitting down and talking with them all.

Numerous topics of conversation. Then it came on to Kyle. Mart and Kyle were originally going to Paris around the time of Manchester Pride 2004 so I was a little upset that they weren't going to be around. However, now it seems that Paris is off. Lots of people have noticed a serious change in Kyle. We're all putting it down to jealousy (well, Mart and I are). It's no secret that Kyle likes to be centre of attention and we're all used to the diva fits when he doesn't get his own way. It was funny to listen to myself watching what I was saying and also watching Mart choosing his words very carefully. I started to make some comment and I could see Mart's eyebrows raise to the ceiling. I think he thought I was gonna say something about us, but I didn't.

I recounted the tail of the last time Kyle, Mart and myself went out and Kyle ended up at the sauna and pointed out that that was probably because I wasn't going to have any go with him trying to cop off with me. Not that night, anyway. It's always been a funny relationship between Kyle and me. Pete's accused me many a time of having an affair with him. Indeed, he recently asked me out right whether I'd slept with him or not. I replied that yes, we had slept together, but he was wearing some very fetching blue tartan trousers in bed but we didn't have sex. He wasn't impressed with my pedantry, but never mind. I added, expressing that I didn't want to make too much of a point of it, that he probably went to the sauna because I wasn't going to sleep with him. Ok, so he was horny, I was horny, but as I've stated, that night I didn't want to have a man with me. So I'm still contemplating the 'do I bone Kyle?' question. I know it's cruel to play with people in that way, especially as I'll probably just lead him on and then drop out of it. But I might have some fun with the idea.

I know that Mart is getting concerned about how Kyle is interacting with him. We've all done the harmless mate-like flirting with each other but this seems to be attempting to get on a different level. True, Mart and I have done more than the harmless flirting. But. Asking a mate to go to the loo with you when you're in a club is one thing. Asking them to go to the loo with you in your own home is a completely different thing, especially when your new boyf and your shag-piece are there! And apparently, that is one of the more innocuous events. Kyle doesn't do subtle - I've heard his chat-up technique on the phone when he thought he was speaking to someone else - but that's no excuse.

Manchester Pride is going to be important for me this year, for reasons that don't need to be stated. I've avoided it like the plague for the past few years, but this time I feel the need to be there. In some ways Mart is quite happy that Paris isn't happening. Aside from the fact that he knows that it's important to me for him to be at Pride with me, he has this suspicion that Kyle was going to say something while they were in Paris. Or do something. None of us can decide which is worse!

But anyway, it's Thursday. I'm going out later. And I'm going to have a great night. I will be having a great night. If I tell myself that often enough this afternoon, then I'm bound to. As for Michael, well, I'm feeling a little guilty. I've not rung or messaged him since I left him at the station. He's gonna think I've fallen out with him. Maybe he'll be around tonight, maybe he wont. Just have to wait and see.

Monday's got a beautiful baby
And Wednesday's child can never win
Little Saturday will work till he's crazy
But Friday's child was born to give

Oh, how I love Friday's!!!

Been wanting to do that for a while. Apart from 45 minutes trying to get the Blogger template to look how my mock-up looked, that wasn't too painful. I'll be unhappy with it within the week. We've already found out at work that my knowledge of style sheets is, erm, not very good. So even if it looks like a bag [of shite], I'm proud of it.

I'm about to do something interesting screw the layout of this blog up completely.

OK. I can sum this film up in one word:

Eh?

... but a web search directed me to the Yahoo search engine. I used to use Yahoo almost exclusively, until I found Google.

Anyways. Guess what I go an search for...?

Like you really needed three guesses?

I know, it's childish. I'll go to my room now and make my bed...

Well. What a weekend. I've been away, I've relaxed, I've de-stressed and I feel abso-fucking-lutely fantastic.

I get home on Friday afternoon and finish some work jobs from home. I'm in the middle of writing my last train of thought on here when Pete comes in. He's been in town. Two pints he says he's had but to me he comes across as 'steaming'. He asks what I'm up to, I tell him I'm doing my diary. TV comes on downstairs and he's playing the music channels at full pelt. I shout down for him to turn it down a bit. I'm not complaining about the music, just the volume.

He turns in down. Then comes upstairs and sits by the side of me. 'What you doing baby?' he slurs. I'm doing my diary, or trying to is my response. It then becomes apparent that he wants to go out. Seriously, I was too knackered and didn't feel up to it. This sparks a row: 'you never want to go out when I suggest it. You only go out when you want to. How come you're never tired when you go out with other people...' I don't have the energy to argue, so I just sit quite calm. I thank him for the invitation and tell him that if he wants to go out I've got no problem with that, just that I don't feel like it. He keeps going. I'm starting to feel like a prisoner in my own home so I tell him I'm going out.

'No no no. Don't go. I'll go out.' He says.
Too late. I'm gone.

So I go for a drive. Incidentally, it was to a known cruising area but this was not my reason for going. Anyway, I'm dressed all in white so where ever I was in the greenery I would have been spotted a mile away. Had a nice wander. With the rain I think most sensible people knew it would have been a bad idea to engage in outdoor sex. There was only one other guy around. It was obvious what he was there for. I just blanked him.

I gets back and completed what I was writing before. Pete arrives home.

We sit downstairs and I've regained my composure. But not for long. He flairs up again. I tell him that I don't know who he thinks he is, but he is not coming into my home and picking an argument with me within the first 20 minutes of his arrival. I tell him I'm going. Because of my preoccupation I tell him a few things that I can't remember but they don't paint my psychological well-being in a good light. He asks if I'll be back. I tell him probably not. He chases to the car after me, but with quick thought I lock all the doors on the car and drive off.

I park up a few miles away from home. It's a fairly quiet road near a cemetary. Truckers use it for sleep-overs, but there was only one truck there. I clamber into the back of the car and try to settle myself down for the night. It's not comfy, but I get a bit relaxed. I remember that I've got messages from Michael to reply to, so I turn my phone on. I send a grovelling appology that I'm down and out of sorts. Shortly after he rings me up.

I tell him about the situation at home with Pete and he asks me where I am. Tells me off. Not good for me to spend the night in the car, get my arse home. But he also invites me to come down to his for a relaxing weekend. The invitation was tempting and so I took it. I go home happy in the knowledge that I'm not gonna spend a boring, annoying, stressing weekend in Manchester. Pete's gone out again, but there is a note. I half read it, and then write him a note informing him that I've been invited away for the weekend and that I was thinking of going.

We have an 'adult' conversation first thing in the morning. But it degraded soon enough to the usual shouts and screams. It's clear he doesn't understand why I needed to get away, and wanted to do the 'getting away' with me. I tell him that I'm going because I need the break: away from home, away from him and away from Manchester. Unhappily he lets me go. He didn't and doesn't know where I went to. I actually don't want him to know that I spent the weekend with Michael. He'll think that it was just some excuse for me to get my cunt filled. I already knew he believed it was going to be 'party, party, party', but maybe that was due to the fact he didn't know where I was going or who I was going with.

Michael and I are exchanging text messages while I'm on the train. Turns out that we're both as excited about my arrival as each other. One hand writing messages on my phone, with the other inside my white trackies playing with myself. Oops!! While I remember, I also send a message to Mart apologising for my sudden departure as he was supposed to be coming over to stop for the weekend. He didn't reply.

Much of the weekend is a blur, I spent the vast majority of it stoned. But it wasn't sitting-doing-nothing stoned, it was doing-stuff stoned. The change of air, scenery, company, everything really helped me to unwind, relax and chill out. I also got to see the other side of Michael, and I liked what I saw. It made me wonder why my life seemed so complicated in comparison.

As for the sex, 'cos you knew that had to be in there somewhere, I'm really proud of myself. I was actually able to take all of Michael. It took us two days of 'gentle persuasion' but he finally got balls-deep into me. It was heaven. He made me bleed, a little. 'Just a small fissure' he said while he held my arse in the air and peered into the car crash that was my anus. So he runs me a salt bath and instructs me to have a few more of these over the next few days.

I knew I had to come home on the Monday morning, and also knew that when Monday came I wouldn't want to. I was right. Sat at the station waiting for the train back to Manchester Michael was talking to me. I was only paying half attention, sorry, 'cos I didn't want to leave him.

I feel lighter, happier, I look better and feel better than I have done in months. Like when you're on 'E' and feel like you're ready for the world if only it weren't all cotton wool. That's how I feel, but without the chemicals and without the cotton wool. So what, I'm in love with some body and I know that I don't want to lose this feeling.

Interesting stuff.

Here's the science bit. Now pay attention!

I saw someone describe themselves as 'mentally and physically fit' over the past few days. Both descriptions I've liked to use on myself. With my work I have to be quick thinking and resourceful, so mentally I'm pretty agile. As for the physical, I'm not a muscle-mary by any stroke of the imagination (or pork sword). Though one trick did once ask me which gym I went to. I hadn't and haven't been to a gym in years, I'm all natural!

Something is bothering me. It's something that I don't know how to resolve. And it's something that could get messy and a few people could get hurt by it. Don't know whether it's cos I'm over worked at the moment or what but mentally I'm not firing on all cylinders.

If I'm honest I can say that it started on Saturday evening. What I didn't write about was that I got home, and was a mess, had a blazing row with Pete and stormed off in the car for a few hours. I phoned Michael and we had a bit of a chat, and exchanged a few text messages. My mobile has been off ever since. Sort of purposefully, sort of by accident.

When Pete and I split up there were a number of reasons. The main one being that I'd lost the line between him and me: where did one begin and the other start? I had to get out, find myself, realise that I actually liked myself. At the time I hated him and I hated myself even more. A lot of people knew I was unhappy. Only I knew just how unhappy I was. No one thought that I would actually throw him out, despite the threats of me doing so. Even Pete never thought I could do it. But then he didn't even realise how unhappy I was. I'd told Kyle a few months earlier that I was thinking of moving (still in Manchester) and just escaping. Practically everything was in my name, the rent paid by me, so he'd have been well up shit creek. Kyle just told me not to be silly, try and ride the storm. The storm got worse and so I bailed out.

That was two years ago. I've maintained since then that I don't want a relationship. It took ages to convince Pete that I didn't want a man in my life, and I didn't need a man to make my life complete. I still feel that way. Pete's been constantly pushing for a relationship with me. It was nearly about to happen until the HIV thing. Whether it nearly happened for the right reasons I'll never know.

Kyle tries to explain my lack of desire for a relationship as 'you've had a taste of freedom, you like it too much, and you're not about to give that up'. He's got a point, I'll grant that, but it's not the full story. I actually don't know what the full story is, but I know that it's not that.

I know I'm getting closer to Michael, and I like Michael a lot. It doesn't a scientist to work out that he's pretty hot on me as well. Maybe he's a bit too hot for my liking, but I can't completely control other people. He knows I'm not in relationship mode. He's ok with the casual fucking but wants much more than that.

Perhaps it's a question of independence. I fought hard for my independence when I was younger. I was that child who was wrapped in cotton wool. Pete used to try and 'protect' me from the evils of this world. Yes, I was naive when we first met. I know I don't like to feel closed in and smothered. I think Pete's doing that a little at the moment. Michael says that he respects my independence and that it is important for me to have my life. He has his life and I have mine. God help the next man who tries to take my independence away. I do feel closed in.

Through being single I've made myself stronger, more self-assured. The HIV thing knocked me a bit, but it made me more determined. After the initial hiccups I've got my confidence back. The last thing I want to do is to return to the subservient, timid wench that I felt I was two years ago. That's not a positive move. And I think that's how I see relationships, well, my relationship at least. I know gay relationships can work, and work well. Ben and James are strong with each other and I take great pride in being invited into the strength of their relationship. If doesn't feel like its rubbed off on me, even though both of them have.

I suppose I'm falling in love. Even though I've not phoned Michael I'm thinking about him. And it's not just the sex thing I'm thinking about. I know if I don't move I'll lose him. The sex is good, but sex has never been high on my lifes list of priorities (I know, gasp!!). It is more than just the sex with Michael, more than just his status. I'm being a bitch with him, I know, and I know I'm not playing fair. But I've never liked playing by the rules. I heard a song on the radio this week:

I don't wanna fall in love.
Love is just like a knife.
You make the knife feel good.
I'll fight you 'till the end

I don't want to fall in love. I love a lot of people, and there are some very special people around me, and I love them for very different reasons. It sounds patronising, but everyone in my life has their purpose, everyone has a role. Even if that role is only that they make me feel good. That's just so self-indulgent.

If I do fall properly for Michael, then Pete is going to be well pissed off with me. I don't think I can handle that. Definately not at the moment. Though I can't deal with that level of commitment at the minute. It would be very easy to fall for Michael, he's just so lovely. I had an awful thought the other day, about me starting to go out with someone just to get Pete off my back, and then dump them so I could be with Michael. That's cruel, and so not me. I couldn't do that, it's dishonest and makes me a bad person.

I was hoping that writing this down might help me make it clearer. I think I understand why I'm preoccupied, but it doesn't help me to see how to get out of it. It hasn't made it that much clearer.

I've been for a drive and just re-read what I'd already written. I was afraid it was just a ramble. I'm really confused and my emotions are a bit ripe. I want Michael to be here with me, but I know that if he was we'd just end up in bed together and it wouldn't sort anything out. Or would it? I need to speak to Michael. I can't speak to Pete about this, he'd just go off the wall and scream at me. And that's from someone who claims he still loves me to death.

This feeling is alien to me and I can't process it. Maybe I need some time away from the real world to pull myself together and decide where I want to go from here. Certainly I can't think about it with all the hustle and bustle going on around me.

Oh, dont' mind me! I'll bounce back, I always do.