Sunday, November 28, 2004


We were rudely awoken by Kyle at 9.45am on the phone. Mart fell out of bed to pick the phone up. I could hear Kath banging around the rest of the flat. I was surprised she was still there as I though she was supposed to be starting work at 10am. Mart was stood by the bedroom door talking. I just stayed cuddled up with the duvet in bed. Mart and Kyle spoke for about 10 minutes then Mart went to the loo. Aparently I looked so cute in bed, all he could see were my eyes peering out.

Mart got back in bed and there was a knock on the door. Kath offering us a brew. She's a good lass. We're getting her well trained, and she'll make someone a lovely 'fag-hag' someday! I gave Mart a quick good morning peck before the brews arrived. The three of us spoke about this and that. Kath was not surprised to see me. After all, I think I'd spent more time with Mart in his bed than with anyone else over the last week!

It seemed strange to still be in Marts bed in daylight. Usually when it's been morning we've both had to rush off but this day was different and we just stayed there. Mart knew that this was D-Day - Diagnosis Day. And I told him that I'd already envisaged spending most of the day in bed, 'just never anticipated it would be your bed!' He howled. He also apologised for the previous night with him just crashing out. He remembered that at one point I was stroking him, and his comment that he 'knew what I was doing, but wasn't able to respond.' I told him that that was ok.

We listened to some CD's and continued talking. I was still horny from the night before and proceeded to tell Mart this. He looked at me, kinda embarassed, and said he wasn't sure whether he was or not. 'We'll listen to this track, I'll make a brew, and then I'll let you know'. Basically, us having sex with each other was fine when we're off our faces, but doing it stone cold sober was a barrier. If we did end up doing anything today it was going to be very different from the times before, but neither of us knew how this was going to work if indeed it was going to work.

So the track finished and the brew was made and brought in. We sat there drinking. Making small talk, both flirting but trying not to and skirting around the subject of sex. There wasn't an atmosphere, as such, just one of those difficult moments. We found some way of shattering that moment. After all, we'd found a level with each other where honesty was going to work.

'Yeah, I'm horny, let's do it.' So we snuggled down under the covers and started kissing and cuddling. It seemed so wierd to be able to see Mart doing this. When I was younger I always used to close my eyes when I kissed someone passionately. Then one 'trick' asked me why I always did it. Was there something wrong? Was I thinking about someone else? From that moment on, 'cos I couldn't answer, I've noticed that it's rare for me to keep my eyes closed when I kiss. This was going to be difficult, and there were no guarantees that we'd get much further than this.

I rolled him onto his back and moved myself down his body. I was going to attack his cock. 'Don't look at me!' he said as I took him in my mouth. Again it was wierd, even in the dark I always look at the face of the cock I'm chowing. I noticed he had his hand lightly over his eyes. I went back to work. I can't describe what I was thinking other than I had to really focus on worshipping the meat between my lips. We changed roles, or at least attempted to. I rolled on my back and Mart went down towards my dick. I tried not to look at him, and failed. He got a pillow and stood it across my stomach and went down on me. I started giggling, Mart's head popped back up over the pillow. 'No peeking now!' he chuckled. That just made it worse for me and I started laughing even more. 'Do you always wear this cockring?' he queried. To be honest, I'd put it on before I went out and had forgotten all about it. 'Not all the time.' I responded between giggles. He cam back up the side of me. We hugged and kissed. 'At least we can laugh at this.' I said and he nodded in agreement. We'd always believed that we'd never get as far as the sex bit because of all the laughing. There was some truth in this. But here we were enjoying each other and having a laugh at the same time. Now isn't sex supposed to be fun?

We decided to take a breather for a few minutes and had a cigarette each. The daylight on Mart's naked body made him self conscious and he kept a hand over his genitals the entire time. I don't understand that one, I have to admit. I've explored that area with my hands, my fingers and my mouth yet to explore it visually is not allowed. But I have to respect that. It's a difference that makes Mart who he is. So I'm brazen and have no issues with my own body I respect that other people aren't as open as I am about it. Certainly, Mart is much less paranoid about his body than he used to be.

When we resume our activities Mart is eating my arse. There's a mirror at the end of the bed. We had to position ourselved in such a manner that I couldn't see Mart and he couldn't see me. At one point I rolled my head and caught a glimpse of Mart between my arse-cheeks. I had to blot it out quickly. I was enjoying it, and I knew that Mart was enjoying it. But we were both having to think about it, if you understand, and that added a layer to the proceedings. I knew that sooner or later I was going to be desperate for Mart to stick his cock into me and shag me. That was going to need some thought as to positioning. We've already found that the best position for us is with me sat across him, facing him. In the dark this is fine. In daylight, and sober, this was a no no. Turning me round was not an option because of the mirror.

Fucking time arrived. 'Erm, how are we going to do this?' Mart asked.
'Erm, erm. I've been thinking about that.' for the first time, actually having difficulty talking about this.
'You know I can't look at you while we do this.' he stated.
'I know. I think the only way we're gonna be able to do this is doggy-style.' I replied

Now I like doing it doggy. Always have. I know it's not as intimate as other positions and that sometimes that intimacy is needed (for both parties). But this was an occasion where it was all down to the sex. Mart agreed that it was probably the best solution. So I assumed the position, he rubbered up, lubed up, lined up and pushed it up. It took a few attempts to get the angles right and to get us both comfortable. The advantage for Mart here, however, was that he could bang away as hard as he liked. I'd already observed from previous encounters that he likes to slam it in every now and then. He fucked me good and proper and filled the condom. We both collapsed back on the bed. He found a towel for me to sit on so I didn't get lube on the bed.

We'd entered a new territory now. One from which there was no turning back. Everytime before there had been something we could blame, either drugs, alcohol, or normally both. This time there was nothing. We'd done it because, well, we both felt like it. It was good to know that we could. Was good that we could laugh about it. The 'no peeking now!' line was going to be used again in general conversation - a private joke that only we'd get. It was also very good that we'd both enjoyed it. Neither of us believe that it's going to happen like that too many times, for no other reason than it's much harder work to settle in to.

We lay back in the afterglow. My phone went off, a text message. I waited a few moments before picking it up. It was Daddy. He was back out in town with Ben and was wondering whether I was available to join them. I told Mart. I knew that he couldn't as he was working later on. I thought about it, then thought about it some more. Then I remembered that my aim for D-Day was to get wasted. I'd done the 'bed' bit after a fashion (ok, so it wasn't my bed, and I didn't cry). So I replied to the text saying that I still had to go home and get changed but I'd meet them out later on. I spent the next few hours with Mart. I didn't want it to seem like I'd just hung around to get shagged. Sorry, but I think more of Mart than that. One hell of a lot more. We listened to the Scissor Sisters CD and laughed at some of the lyrics. 'Do you think they do drugs?' Mart asked at one point. 'I think they do some worse shit than we do honey, and more of it!' I replied.

Mart went to go to the loo. I took the opportunity to find my clothes and begin putting them on. I got partly dressed and was waiting for Mart to return. I usually spend my time there in shorts, t-shirt and a cap and Mart usually refers to me as getting ready to go clubbing. This time, I just sat on the edge of the bed wearing my cap, t-shirt, jock strap and trainers waiting for him to come back. I was going to do the 'Now I'm ready to go out' line, but gave up waiting. He probably wasn't that long but it seemed like ages to me. I got dressed properly and waited. He came back. We hugged and he led me to the door. We hugged again and kissed and I left.

Trip back home to get changed then straight back out. Just as I was leaving the phone went. It was Daddy so I told him I'd see him very shortly. Ben and Daddy were very somber when I arrived. They'd started without me, but that was ok. Wouldn't take me that long to catch up.

Can't really remember much of the night. But I know I sent a text message to Mart:
cos ur filthy, oo an i'm gorgeous. and you can open me up like christmas anytime! hope ur ok baby. love you x

T-minus Twelve

The taxi arrives. It was only 10 minutes late! So much for ordering in good time, I think to myself. Still I get into town and now it's just a case of waiting. Daddy and Ben aren't there yet, probably still doing the rounds, and I'm sure that Mart is not long off arriving. I get to the bar and order my drink.

While I'm waiting a friend of Jeffs comes round. We let on to each other, do the 'hello's' and kisses. I ask him how he is. He leans against the bar, puts one hand on his forehead, and stated 'I'm fucking wankered!' with exasperation. I start to laugh and tell him that that's how I intend to be by the end of the night. He reminds me of someone I had (or did he have me?) at McDonalds the other week. The height was right, the face looked right. The only other distinguishing feature would be his cock, and I wasn't about to ask him to show me that just yet!

So I'm stood at the bar. Just waiting. Unusual for me as I hate propping up bars with a passion. I always have. Apart from stopping other people from ordering drinks it usually means you have your back to the rest of the joint so unless you have eyes in your arse (been told I've got teeth in mine, but that is another story) you can't sken any potential totty! Suddenly I'm grabbed at the waist and squeezed. I jump around and end up gazing into Mart's beaming face. He'd already told me that he'd sunk a bottle of vodka with Kath that day. He wasn't pissed, just very happy! I was so pleased to see him. We embraced and kissed and then he came forward to order a drink. We chatted for a while at the bar and Jeff's friend milled past a few times. He caught Mart's eye at one point. 'Mmm, I know!' I said.

Then a table became vacant so I suggested that we sit down. We did, and spent a few moments looking at each other, looking away, giggling, then looking back at each other. Our conversation was as flirty as ever.

'You know something,' I began, 'I love being with you because you always make me feel better.'
'Ooo', he cooed raising one eyebrow. 'I know!' he oozed with satisfaction.

No one knew quite how this evening was going to pan out, least of all me! My intention was to enjoy myself, get pretty wasted, then sleep with maybe some sex along the way. We continued chatting, flirting and the innuendo. Then Mart decided that he wanted to be closer to the music so we went to the dance area and stood at a table.

We were minding our own business, flirting a little with each other, when we both spotted this lad. Hideous white shirt (I can't describe the pattern) and a black jacket that couldn't make up it's mind whether it was on or off. He started making 'goo goo' eyes at us. Mart and I looked at each other. 'Oh my god!' I mouthed to Mart. Mart quickly, and obviously, turned to face me to get him out of his line of sight. The look on Mart's face said one thing, 'wierdo'. He was probably quite a nice lad, just on another planet at that moment in time.

In between parts of our conversation I was still watching him. Not with any intent, I just wanted to see what was going to happen with that jacket. It was all off, all on, one arm in. At one point I thought he was going to throw it on the floor and jump on it to beat it into submission. Now that would have been so funny. I went to the loo to 'drop a little something' and when I came back I asked Mart if he wanted to do likewise. He did.

A few more moments past and then Mart sent me to the bar to get us both drinks. I had to slide between two people at the bar to get served. Hands were placed on my hips from behind, then they slid round to my side along with their owner. It was the 'jacket lad'. I tried to ignore him, but it wasn't working. I put my order in for Mart and myself.

'What you want?' jacket lad mumbled. I hate that. I couldn't hear him partly because of the music and his mumbling.
'Sorry love, what you say? I can't hear you'
He tried again. This time pulling my head down to his level. I was praying that he wasn't going to shout in my ear. Perfect excuse for me to thump him! This time I understood.
'You're alright, mate,' I began, 'my friend has just bought me one.
'No, I wanna get you a drink. What you want?'
My drinks arrive. I pick them up, turn to face him square on, crouch a little and whisper to him. 'Look, you're alright but my mate has just bought me a drink.' I give him a little peck on the cheek, 'You enjoy yourself tonight.' And then I walk back to Mart to tell him what's just happened.

Mart's laughing at me. One of the last times we did this he ended up with a drag queen and I got chatted up by this cute butch lesbian. This time I just get a wierdo. Are things improving? Silly thing is that he was rather sweet, but it was the hideous shirt that sealed his fate.

I was just about to send a text message to Daddy to find out where he was when, lo and behold, him and Ben arrive. They come over and I kiss and hug the pair of them. I can relax now. Everyone is here. I say to Mart that I'm going to enjoy tonight. He raises his eyebrows in the way that only he can.

The pills and the alcohol kick in and everything is feeling great. My jacket comes off and I tie it round my waist. Ben makes some comment about me needing to eat. I get closer to him. 'I'll eat later,' Then with a wink and a squeeze of his crotch, 'if you'll feed me that is!' and I wipe my tongue across my top lip. It was too early to be thinking about home time but I was making sure I'd got some bases covered, if you understand.

All in all it was a good night. Spent most of the time in Hollywood flirting with Ben and Jeff's friend. I ended up rubbing his crotch at one point, but he said not to bother as there wasn't much there. Didn't think at the time that that may be a hint to rub some more. Never mind, another time. Mart was exceptionally flirty. At one point I lent backwards over the arm of a chair to talk to him, he was sat on the arm of an adjacent chair and leant over and snogged me fully. Nearly broke my back, but I'm used to that with him!

We moved over to the Union and left him dancing in Hollywood. Of course I told him where we were going. Ben rushed over, Daddy was waiting by the door and I went to let Mart know what was going on. As I exited Hollywood Daddy was in the middle of the road talking to two lads. I overheard him say that he was waiting for his daughter 'and here she is now!' I dashed over and he put his arm round me and kissed me on the top of my head.
'So this is your daughter?' said one of the lads.
'Yep, this is my lovely daughter, and my Grandaughter is in there.' Daddy replied pointing at Hollywood.
'And you're his daughter?' he asked me, confusion plainly across his face.
'Yep.' I said.
'So what's your name?' he enquired
I told him. Confusion got the better of him, but it was funny.
'Nah man!' he started, 'my head's completely fucked!'
I started to giggle.
'So are you pair gay, then?' Daddy asked.
Both of them looked at each other, both unsure of what to say. 'No, we're straight.' the mouthpiece answered.
'But you've both been with each other.' I commented, the look on the quiet one's face told me all I needed to know.
We shook hands (how very straight!) and wished each other a good night and Daddy and I went over to the Union to find Ben.

We ended the night in the Union after we'd all arrived there. Jeff was gonna have his hands full. His new boy decided to 'double-drop' his pills and it was the first time he'd ever taken them. Oops! Daddy went home with Ben and I went home with Mart. We seemed to have to wait ages for a taxi, and it was bitterly cold.

Back at Marts we listened to some music and I could see Mart slowly drifting off. We got into bed and I cuddled him. There wasn't going to be any sex that night and maybe that was a good idea.

Countdown To D-Day

Friday morning. When I wake up my clock radio says 9.10am. I'm late! I was supposed to be in the office at 8am to do an install and to be the other side of Manchester by 10.30 for a product presentation. Shit! The install was an update, fortunately not critical, but one that can only be done when one of our systems is completely down. That would have to wait until later in the day. My priority was getting to the product presentation and meeting someone from work there. I'd agreed on the Wednesday that I'd be going as I was 'fit for work'. Ok, the sick note had run out.

What was I doing in bed? I was still clothed! I didn't remember going to bed but knew I had to move fast. Quickly getting dressed, threw a cup of coffee down my throat. I felt rough, again. Down stairs I saw my phone. There was a message that I'd been writing: 'Just looked at myself. God what a mess. What am I doing?' I wasn't sure whether I'd sent it. Couldn't even remember writing it. A vague recollection of me lying back last night with my hands over my face crying. But that's all I can remember.

Shit! In my rush to get out of the office yesterday I'd forgotten to pick up the details of where I was going from off the printer. I knew the building I was going to, just hoped that someone there knew where I was supposed to be in that building! I've been to things like this before where you turn up and the people on reception look at you as if you're speaking Japanese. Best was when I bombed it all the way up the motorway to a presentation on Chorley and was about to vent huge amounts of bile at a poor receptionist for being very clueless, until she pointed out that the date on my piece of paper was next week. Oops!

I dashed out to get the bus into town. My phone, on discreete, vibrated in my bag to let me know that a message had been delivered. I'd sent that message to Micheal! Then it started ringing, well, a constant vibrate. I couldn't face answering it. Another message delivered. I still didn't fancy taking my phone out of my bag. Last night's antics had only stalled a worsening of the way that I felt the previous afternoon. I was praying for the day to hurry up and finish so I could meet with Mart later. I knew I'd be ok once I'd got him with me. Another message arrives.

Off one bus. Quick dash across town to get another bus. Fortunately didn't have to wait long. It was 9.50am. I was surprised that I was going to be early! Sat on the bus I plucked up courage to look at my phone. Just hoped it didn't go off in my hand. It always shows messages before call numbers. Delivery report for the message to Micheal. Message from Pete to check I was ok. Message from Micheal: 'I can't help you if you won't talk to me...'. Then the missed phone calls: Pete, then Micheal. I decided to reply to Micheal. Basically, 'couldn't talk at the moment, work thing. Feeling crap. Looks like the bender has started.' some comment about him not being here, ending with 'but life goes on. Maybe.'

I got to my destination. I wasn't the first arrival and had chance to talk to some other people that I know that were there. We swapped insults about the company presenting. We both have a good relationship with the rep but sometimes have problems with the way the company does business. The presentation got started and I turned my phone off.

The morning presentation was good, but I didn't need the sales pitch and to know how the company 'knew it was the best in the market place!' We wouldn't be doing business with them otherwise. Learning about the direction of the company for the next year was useful. Sounds like we'll still be with them next year, unless they change their corporate minds!

Lunch time came, a buffet lunch. Nothing inspiring but at least a free feed. After eating I stepped outside for a smoke. Turned my phone on and waiting. Delivery report received. No message followed. I wrote a message 'Got 25 mins for lunch. At a product presentation. Having trouble focusing. Call me if ya want...'. Sent. Delivery report. I wait. I go for a wander around the grounds. It's bitter, I'm already cold inside, not wanting to be there. I wait some more. Another cigarette. Already worked out that I'm smoking far too much at the moment. Realise that when half way through a cigarette I take a drag and am disgusted by the taste, but still don't feel like putting it out. Fuck It! I say to myself and go back inside. I got 10 minutes before the presentations start again. I'm in the loo, just putting myself away after peeing when my phone goes off.

I move to somewhere I can talk. Strangely the only place is to be stood outside the gents! I can have a phone conversation outside a toilet but never inside one. Think that stems from my younger days when a toilet was a place for 'business' and not to hold conversations. He started in a caring but lecturing tone. Looking back he probably had my best interests at heart. My end of the conversation was bitty, my tone snappy. I told him I was out with Pete and he seemed thankful that I wasn't out on my own. He questioned whether my lack of focus was due to what I'd consumed last night and gathered that I wasn't just on alcohol. I agreed that it was probably a factor but not the entire story. I'm sure it was pretty clear from my tone that I was unhappy. I think he was concerned, but I'm not convinced of it. He says he understands what I'm going through but I'm not seeing or hearing anything that backs that up. At the moment I'm only trusting the things I see. He advises me to make sure I eat before I go out, drink some orange and some vitamins - to try and stem some of the damage I've already caused. I thank him for the advice and say that I'm gonna have to get back. He promises to ring me about 7pm. We end the call and I turn my phone off. I'm not sure if I feel better for speaking to him or worse. Just numb, that's the best way to describe it.

The afternoon session is more interesting. Practical demo of the systems on offer. Hearing about software is ok. Seeing it in action is better. Being allowed to play with it is even better. Sadly, only got to see it in action. Nice management system. Gonna cost a lot but I'm interested! I couldn't wait for it to be over, though. I knew it was a dash back to work and I felt so tired. But I had to do this install before weekend.

At work I went straight to the server room. Fortunately no one was using the system I was about to cripple! I shut it off, ran the install, set the configuration, started it back up again. Now the test. Everything came back online and was working normally. Whole downtime less than 20 minutes. Home time! And if it breaks after I've gone, TOUGH SHIT!

I spent some time catching up on my diary whilst at the same time trying to figure out what I'm wearing tonight. Really, I didn't have a clue! Knew I needed to have a bath, wash my hair, shave (both ends) and douche (well, you never know what might happen later). Thinking about later made me feel better. I was gonna get wankered and have a real good time, and Mart was gonna be there to share it with me.

The worst part about going out for me is always deciding what to wear. I've made some bad decisions in my time, and worn things that really don't do me justice. Then other times I can look and feel so hot. Tonight I was going to need to feel good even if I didn't look that good. So, it was blue sleeveless top (the one for Mart and boyf's ill-fated engagement party), jeans, and I was going to wear my Rockports but my ankle decided that they wouldn't be a good idea. Ok then, black trainers it is. I wasn't going to take a jacket. After all, I'm getting a taxi there and a taxi home.

Don't ask me why but I put on Mart's CD - the Madonna one. I douche. Then while waiting for all the air/water to come out I shave my face. I begin to wonder whether Kyle knows that Mart and I have had sex to a CD that he put together for Mart and start giggling to myself. The phone goes. it's Mart. We arrange to meet at 8.30. I don't tell him what I've been listening to and wondering. I go back to the bathroom with the phone and decide to order a taxi. Get it in early and it might just turn up on time. I run the bath, get in and start doing what I need to do.

The phone goes while I'm in. Thank god I wasn't shaving at the time it have a very loud abrupt ring and always makes me jump. It was Daddy. He's with Ben (ah, my sexy Ben!) and they're wondering whether I'm out tonight. I tell him I am, that I was originally out on the Saturday but changed plan and that I'll be out meeting Mart at 8.30. Excellent! Having Ben and Daddy there will make me happy. I shave and then wash my hair. Just about to get out of the bath when the phone goes again. I'm thinking it's Micheal. No, it's some automated thing so I hang up. Been getting a lot of those lately.

I dry off and proceed to get ready. Shite! I've got 50 minutes to get ready. Clothes get thrown on. I decide to root out a jacket to put on. It's gonna be a cold night. My nice white one. Lenses in and do my hair. It's a bit spiky and scrunchy, quite different for me. I look at myself, yeah, I'll do.

Food! Yes, must eat. Macaroni cheese, bread, multi-vitamins, orange juice. I'm in the middle of eating when the phone goes. It's 7.35, it's Micheal. He'd gone for a lie down, woke up and realised that it was past the time he should have been ringing me. I excused myself for trying to eat and talk to him. He laughed and realised that it would be better if he gave me some time to eat and rang me back. I finished eating and he rang shortly after. Told him the plans and how I was just waiting on the taxi. My tone was pretty disinterested. Yeah, it was nice to hear him, but I wanted him to be here and to share this night with me. He offered to ring Daddy for me and get him to come home with me so I wasn't alone over night. I told him that it wasn't being on my own that bothered me, it was feeling as if I was on my own that did. He went silent for a moment. We picked up the conversation again and he said he'd ring me in the morning. Then we decided that as I didn't know what state I was going to end up in that it might be better to leave it until slightly later. We settled on midday. He hoped I enjoyed myself and we ended the call. I stood by the window waiting for the taxi to come.

Friday, November 26, 2004

Black Thursday

If you didn't know better at times you could swear that Mart and I are biologically related. Physically we're very different but there are some traits that are more than just spookily common to us both. Neither of us are morning people. Stress us in the morning and it is the equivalent of dressing in a zebra suit and dancing in front of our noses.

The alarm on Marts phone went off at 7am. He kinda half fell, half flew across the room to turn it off. As he looked back with a very bleary face he kinda double-took as he saw me in the bed. I can't really describe his expression other than 'it's morning'. He stood there momentarily. Then suddenly realised that he was naked and I could see his cock nestling in his dark bush. Quickly he scrabbled on the floor for his shorts and put them on. He opened the bedroom door and fell into the bathroom.

With the bedroom door open I could hear Kath milling around. She's normally a little more with it in the mornings than the rest of us. I sat up in bed and Mart came back in, started to root out clothes to wear that day and then started dressing. Just then Kath knocked on the bedroom door and asked us whether we wanted a brew. We both kinda grunted to the affirmative and were left in peace. We spoke very little to each other. There was silence, but it wasn't an awkward silence. Mart went back to the bathroom to wash and I took the opportunity to get out of bed, get dressed and start putting my stuff back in my bag. I'd just finished dressing and was sat on the bed putting my trainers on when Kath came back in. She handed me the cup and placed Mart's down for when he returned. She knew what happened last night, it was obvious that she knew!

Mart returned from the bathroom and sat down on the bed and proceeded to drink. Still we said very little to each other. May seem strange to other people but we know that neither of us need to talk to each other to know that we're ok. I got back on the floor to scrabble around packing my bits away. I finished and sat back on the bed. I handed Mart a cigarette which he gladly took and we lit up. Kath came back in.

It was probably about 7.20am now. Mart had to leave for work in 10 minutes. Kath and I were headed in the same direction, town. So she suggested that we get the bus together. I wasn't very conversational and knew I wouldn't be chatting to her, but it was still a travelling companion. I agreed to go with her. She was starting at 8am and I knew I could get into the office at that time. I'd be at work super-early. Yay me! Kath said she'd be leaving in a few minutes so I went to put my coat and cap on. Mart was all set for leaving shortly as well but slightly after us. I went over to him and we hugged and kissed. We both said that we'd enjoyed last night, we both meant it. I told him to have a good day and that I'd see him outside in a few minutes and left with Kath.

As we got outside a bus pulled up, so I never got chance to see Mart outside. The bus was packed but Kath was able to find two seats near the back. I found myself looking at a group of lads, scally labourer types. Yum, I thought. They all looked worse from the night before. Two of them kept nodding off then waking up. One of them was wearing the dusty builder-boots and flourescent tunics that I like. I think I gave a wry smile to myself thinking unthinkable thoughts. I turned to see whether Kath was looking at me, but she had her head buried in a newspaper. According to Mart, later on she had said that she couldn't work out whether my expression was of the cat who got the cream or just stunned. Mart told her I was stunned (not far from the truth, I suppose) even though I did get the cream in a manner of speaking.

About 7.45 we got off the bus. We had to walk across town for us both to get to work. Kath was all set to choose a route that would have meant us pushing through hoards of people. I showed her a backstreet route that was, thankfully, quiet. I really didn't fancy having to battle against other people. It was a grey day and every one we had seen had looked as though they wished they were elsewhere. I wished I was back in bed.

Our paths parted and we gave each other a farewell peck on the cheek and wished each other to have a good day. I was dying to get into the office. I hadn't washed before leaving as I knew I could do that at work. It would be quiet and I wouldn't be disturbed. I arrived at work and it was like a ghost town. I don't like being there when it's that quiet. Always seems un-natural to me. Got to the office and took my coat off and then hived off to the loo to sort myself out. Oh, it felt so good to clean up. I felt almost human by the time I'd finished, and I was back in the office bang on 8am.

My plan for the day was to spend a short amount of time in the office, a few hours at the most and then work from home for the rest of the day. Plus I was supposed to be meeting Pete at some point in the morning to give him some money for some pills for weekend. However, it all fucked up as Pete couldn't come into town to meet me until the afternoon when I'd be at home. Bollocks! So we arranged that I'd make a special trip back to meet him at 5.30.

The drugs were for the weekend. Saturday is the anniversary of my diagnosis. I'd been referring to it as 'd-day' and telling everyone that my intention was to get 'blitzed'. I know, I'm still here a year on. So much has happened and I've learned so much. Some people might even think I'm crazy for remembering the date. But it's the kind of thing I do. I don't want to get upset and I don't even know how I'm going to feel but I know it's something I have to think about. I haven't re-read my diary entry for that day, yet. I'll do that some time after it's all over.

Originally I was intending to go out on the Saturday but Mart couldn't get the time off so he suggested we do Friday instead. It sounded good to me. Plus, if I got as wasted as I wanted to it meant I'd spend most of Saturday in bed. Most likely sleeping it all off.

I did what I had to do and went home mid-morning. My plan of action for the afternoon, however, didn't go to plan. I became pre-occupied over something. I thought about the text message conversation I'd had with Ben earlier in the week:
Me: Hi babe, I'm going out this Saturday. I'd love you pair to be there.
Ben: Dunno yet. Skint! Xmas and all that. I'll let you know.
Me: Ok. If you can come out I'd really appreciate it, kinda important to me.
Ben: Why? What's wrong sweetheart?
Me: Well you remember I told you I got the flu? Saturday is its first birthday.
Ben: How gay is that! A party. Its slow at work call me...

It made me smile. Then I thought about what Mart said about us celebrating it. Can't remember his exact words but Mart always knows the right things to say at the right time. I suppose that's why I told Ben it was a birthday party. The idea was to be happy. I know I was unhappy that Micheal wouldn't be there. That and a few other things started churning in my brain and my mood got lower and lower. Don't think it helped that I sent Micheal a text message: 'Babe, getting worried 'cos I haven't heard from you today. It's grey and cold out here. Miss you.' Then I waited hours for a delivery report, and his reply informed me that it was raining where he was. He'd missed my point from our conversation a few days ago. 'Grey': I'm feeling down and upset, 'cold out here': isolated, un-loved and lonely.

By the time I got back into town to meet Pete I know I was a bit of a wreck. It wasn't helped by the fact that I'd wanted to meet Pete on his own and when I turned up there was someone with him. To top that I couldn't get to the bottom of exactly what Pete had been on that day. It sure wasn't just alcohol. I sat with them and chatted for a bit. The lad who was with Pete was kinda alright, actually. If I'd been more of myself I'd probably have flirted with him. Fairly well-built scally (kept playing with his crotch through his trackies). Straight, allegedly, 'but I sucked him off in the bogs this afternoon.' Pete told me later. Because of my frame of mind I'm sure I wasn't very plesant to be around. I felt myself spitting out words rather than speaking normally. I probably wasn't as bad as I think, but it's not nice to think of yourself in that way.

We finished our drinks and made our exit. I fancied somewhere a bit quieter as I wanted to talk to Pete anyway. Seems strange wanting to talk to Pete after some of the things we've been through, but he's probably the one person in my life that knows the most about me. I know my brain is warped (at the best of times) but there's a trust there, however slight. I told Pete that I thought the guy was horny. Pete told me what he'd done with him earlier and that 'he wasn't really that much to write home about.' I reminded Pete that it was a bit strange me saying things like that considering my willy wasn't working properly. He looked at me. 'That's alright, I can still fuck your arse!' I glared back at him. Maybe the comment was uncalled for, maybe he was just joking. Somehow I didn't see the humour in it.

We found somewhere, got a drink and sat down. My spirits were low. Very low. Conversation was difficult. All Pete wanted to do was talk at me and I needed him to listen to me. There were things I needed help or a soundingboard with. I ended up getting very frustrated and emotional. Very emotional in fact. At one point I threatened to pour his drink over him and throw him through a window if he didn't shut up and listen. I got myself more and more worked up. Angry at the situation, and angry with everything and everyone around. I reminded Pete about my destructive urges and that it would be possible for me to put him through a window and not be bothered about it.

Eventually I calmed down. I'd blub every so often. I wasn't right and Pete knew it. I was even lower than before. Pete mentioned about me staying out a while with him. I didn't really want to, I wanted to go home, have something to eat and rest up. Tomorrow was a heavy day: an install to do first thing and then a product presentation to attend for the rest of the day. We sat until my mood lifted a little. He offered to come back with me as he didn't think I was safe to be left on my own. I wanted to go home alone.

We had a few more drinks. Then I leant over to Pete and whispered 'I'm thinking of having half of one of these pills, you want the other?' He didn't need to be asked twice. He'd told me they were strong and that they were good. If they were as good as he said they were they would do the job I needed them to. We actually had two halves each that night.

I know that I eventually had a good night. I actually enjoyed being out with Pete and it's been ages since I've been able to turn around and mean that. It was nice. We chatted, you could say we flirted a little and for a moment I felt normal. I can't tell you everything that happened as parts of it are just too blurry. Must have had a good time.

Towards the end of the night the horniness of the pills kicked in and I considered Pete's offer of sex. I knew it was a bad idea and would cause more complications that it was worth but it was still an offer. I mean, I felt a mess and am pretty sure I looked a state. I wasn't gonna cop with anyone else that night. It got to 1.30am and I finally decided that it was time for me to leave. I told Pete I had to go and he kissed and hugged me. I was kinda surprised when he told me to be careful going home. Said he was going to stay out a bit longer. It probably was a good idea, to be honest.

I got a taxi home. Took my coat and shoes off, turned the TV on and lay on the couch. And that's all I can remember until morning.


I sort of arranged with Mart to go over to his on Wednesday to lend him the money he asked for. Originally we were to meet in town, have a drink, and then go back to his just to chill out for the evening. However, plans changed at last minute and Mart said to just come straight to the house. He'd been over at Kyle's the previous night and the pair of them finished of his half of the remaining pills from last Friday. Mart said he'd got some weed so his plan was to smoke, listen to music, chat and generally chill.

I got over there about 6.30, bang on time, unusual for me! I'm known for 'being delayed', but I'm not as good at it as Kyle. But that's a story for another time. Mart was already in shorts and t-shirt. His white football shorts - with no underwear. I always think he looks sexy in those, and he knows I think that. He starts recounting the previous night with Kyle and talking about how twatted Kyle got. It was then that I mentioned that I'd brought over my remnants from Friday. A spark flashed in his eyes. Yep, we were going to drop at some point that night.

Kath was with us. Whilst she's not anti-drugs by any stroke of the imagination I think we both felt a bit wierd about doing it in front of her. She went out to make a brew so we took the chance for me to get them out of my bag. I handed one to Mart just as she came back in 'There you go, babe,' I started, 'something to sort your headache out with.' Mart popped it in his mouth. 'It's paracetamol.' he said to Kath, who simply responded 'Yeah, right!' She knew full well what it was. Kath knows about what has happened between us in the past and she probably figured what was likely to happen later that night. But there were no guarantees.

Mart and I have had conversations in the past. We both enjoy talking with each other. When we're stoned we always find we're at the same level and understand each other perfectly. Always have, and I believe always will do. We also have this habit of dropping double entendres into the conversation, sometime intentionally, sometime unintentionally. Parts of our conversation, even in front of Kath, contained lots of double meanings. Call it speaking in code, call it what you like. Sometimes it's just being harmlessly flirty, other times we're doing it for specific reason.

The by-phrase for the whole night was 'and you can take that either way!'. Tonight turned into a night where we were going to be honest with each other. I got the impression, based on reading through one of his comments, that I was going to be the one expected to make the first move. The sex-thing is good between us, very good, but our friendship is more important to both of us. Mart confessed that he didn't fancy me, and that's cool with me. I like him a lot, think of him as my little baby, but I know that I don't fancy him either in a relationship kind of way. In fact, a relationship between us is just plain out of the question. It would just never work and I think it would destroy the strong friendship that we have with each other.

The night drew on. Both of us giving each other 'come on' statements. Both of us having a good giggle. And putting the world to rights in the way we always do. The cd's were changed, frequently. Then Mart got up and said 'I know what I'll put on for you, but you can't look!' I started laughing. At that moment in time I couldn't even focus on the cd player! The cd in question was the Madonna one that was playing the first night we had sex together. Mart got back on the bed. 'And if all else fails, I know they'll be fucking by this one!' he stated. I had to make a response. 'No hon. You've not been failing. Think I'm just being too polite!' I leant over and we kissed. At that point it was clear to both that sex was certainly on the agenda.

We sat in silence for a while. Just listening to the music. Myself, I was remembering the events of the night. It was a difficult silence. Thinking about it now it all seems silly. You know, we've explored each other's naked bodies and more, and yet talking about how we're going to approach this sex-thing was beyond us. Maybe it was the drugs. The awkwardness of the situation was humourous to both of us and we'd just giggle, randomly, for a few seconds and stop, only to do it all again. Mart mentioned about when he played this cd when Pete and I were round. About my expression, and our coded conversations. 'It's like our secret sex cd!' We both exploded into laughter.

When it all became public about what we'd done it wasn't plesant. Mart got punched in the face, think I only just missed a similar fate. We know we don't have to be secretive about it now. It hasn't made it any less exciting, in fact I think it makes it easier. Easier to think about, anyway. I suppose it is a kind of 'fuck-buddy' thing. We both realise that what we have now is special and it works for us. '...and I know I can always get a shag!' he commented. 'That you can, babe.' I replied. I was the first man he had in that bed (not sexually). My line at the time 'well, you did get a man in your bed tonight, love. Ok, so it's your Mother, but hey!' He likes refering to himself from time to time as a 'mother-fucker', and he is a damn good mother-fucker! We both agreed that for someone to keep coming back for more, and for him to keep wanting to do it that there must be something that's working.

'Right. I'm going to the loo, change the cd, turn the light off and get into bed. Then you can pounce on me.' he stated. 'But only if you want to!' he hinted.
'Hmm' I murmured, feigning indifference.

While he was out of the room I stripped down to my shorts and got under the covers. He came back, did what needed to be done and then got into bed. We both wanted this to be like the first time. So we started as we did last time.

Kissing. It all started with kissing, and grinding our crotches into each other and stroking each others bodies. He's hot stuff. We're both lying on our sides getting more and more turned on. We'd already established that we were both horny. Very horny. I slid my hands down to the waist band of his shorts and started to ease them off. He followed suit and slid mine down. They just got pushed to the foot of the bed. The skin-on-skin contact made things even more horny between us and we snogged passionately and the grinding even more intense.

I rolled him more on to his back and kissed down his chest towards his cock. He began to moan. His cock was rock hard. I sucked it into my mouth and he moaned and gasped. His hands on my shoulders. I bobbed up and down on it and he rocked his hips back and forth. Then he started to fuck my face. Not something I let many people do, but I trust Mart. It turned me on knowing that I was doing something with him that I don't do very often with anyone else. I slid back up the bed and we resumed the kissing, heavy petting and the grinding. He started kissing my neck and my shoulders.

Then it was my turn. He rolled me onto my back and slid down the bed. I feel the warth and wetness of his mouth as he swallows me whole. I gasp and moan as he goes down on me. I'm loving this. He finds my balls and starts to fondle them and then a finger finds my arse hole. He knows what I want, but I don't want that just yet. His dry finger has difficulty penetrating me. It was one of those situations where I didn't want fingering, just cock or something else. I understand Ben now when he's like that.

Mart comes back up for air. We kiss again. 'Well that was different!' he announces, 'we didn't do that last time.' I wanted him to eat me out. I can't remember now how we got onto that one, but we change positions so that he's sat up in bed and I position myself so my head is in his crotch and my arse is in his face. He goes to work. Gently, and tenderly at first. I start to wank him gently. Then he picks up pace and is lapping and tonguing me like its the first time he's been fed in weeks. He's licking all over the place, around my arse cheeks and even my balls get a little of the action! I bury my head in his balls and begin to suckle on them. His tongue work is seriously making me moan and I know that I'm transfering the vibrations through his balls. I enjoy sucking balls and sometimes I have to remember not to get too carried away. This was one of those occasions where I could have chewed his balls off. He used his hands to pull my arse cheeks further apart and went in for the kill. His firm, tensed tongue moving in and out of my hole like a mini dick. I could have let him do that all night, and I know he would have done that all night. I wet my finger and go to find his ring. Mart is more active at the moment, says that the idea of someone going in to him doesn't appeal at the moment, but occasionally he does like it. I insert just the tip of my finger into his entrance and begin to gently push and pull and roll it around. He's still merrily chomping at my butt. Then he brings his legs together. I get the message, too much finger work. I resume my ball attack.

It was all getting too much for me. I find out later that that was just 'a stoned arse licking' and that when he's sober and really wants to do it he's even better. Maybe we'll do that one day! At the moment we both feel the need for something to break down the barriers before we get into each other. I turn around so that his cock is rubbing between the cheeks of my arse and begin to kiss him. Our positioning makes thing a little difficult but we manage somehow.

'I have got some, you know!' he says, refering to condoms and lube.
'I know, I'm working up to that'.
I'm ready now, though. He can tell that. I have difficulty getting into the packet to get the condoms out. He takes the packet off me and gets one out and hands it to me.
'Go on, then.' He says.
Confused, I say 'It's going on you, right?'
'Yeah' he says as if I should have known that! It's one of those things. With me being poz I always prefer for the 'fucker' to put his own condom on. It's psychological that they know it's on correctly and is comfortable for them. Nevertheless I place it on his cockhead and roll it down. At the time I was hating the fact that we have to use them, I knew I wanted to feel his warm love goo inside me. Alas, that can never happen. Even though we both know that we can be as open and honest with each other as well like I'll probably never ever tell him that thought.

I smear lube on the rubber, on the outside of my ring and a little in the entrance. I notice he's done a damn good job of opening me up. My lips were nicely relaxed in that nice slightly 'puffy' kinda way. I guided him to my entrance and slowly started to slide him in. I took about half and then paused. The last half seemed really thick as it entered. I moaned with satisfaction when it was all in. He started thrusting. We were bouncing on the bed. I leant forward to kiss him while he was pounding me, but he slipped out. This I know was down to the pill, when I'm horny enough and I'm getting nicely fucked I sometimes really need to do something 'useful' with my mouth. Bit of a problem when there's only two of you!

His thrusting became more emphatic and he was really slamming it into me. My mouth was permanently open, moaning and groaning with pleasure. He started talking 'dirty slut' talk to me. That combined with his ferocious fucking was sending me into overload. I knew that I was unlikely to cum (courtesy of my medication) but all the sensations were there in me. The dirty talk became more bitter and the words were almost being spat out. Then he gave me one final shove. He'd filled the rubber with his juices.

Satisfied, I dismounted. He was spent and sweating. My mouth was dry, my throat was hoarse and I really felt like he'd fucked the stuffing out of me. I tried to talk. It wasn't possible and made us both laugh. A drink of water solved that one.

We lay in bed and I cuddled up behind him. We made small talk for a few minutes. We'd learned a lot from each other tonight, and not just sexually. We slept soundly until his alarm went off at 7am.

Thursday, November 25, 2004

Safe On The Roads

I've been driving for a few years now. I consider it a life skill. It's something you can do even if you don't have a car of your own (hireing, borrowing... etc). It cost me a fortune at the time but I don't regret a single penny.

I came across links to an Online Mock Theory Test today. As it's been a while since I even looked at a copy of The Highway Code I thought I'd give it a go.

Basically, the theory test is 35 multiple choice questions and you have 35 minutes to get at least 30 correct. It's a straight pass or fail, you get 30 or better and you're passed.

I believe there's also a Hazard Perception test online somewhere but I've not tried that one.

Pleased to say that I passed. I got 30 out of 35 (worse than my real theory test where I got 34). The online system allows you to review all your answers when you reach the end. Silly thing is that on all but one of the wrongly answered questions I'd changed my mind and made a right answer a wrong one.

I'm sticking with 'virtual driving' for the time being. Probably safer for everyone! My tablets state that they do affect driving response times and advise that I shouldn't drive if I don't feel safe to.

Tuesday, November 23, 2004

And Here's One I Made Earlier

Yes, more anal clap-trap coming up. Only this time it has a purpose. Yes today, I'm going to show you how to make something. Something practical that can be made with items lying around the house (now I know I need help!) Keep with me on this one, you will like it. I promise!

In Anal? Me? Oh, Shove It Up Yer Arse! I mentioned that I'd been thinking about a fix for the 'Chocolate Sauce' issue. Well here it is:

Now you may well be thinking: Eh? But that's ok. The picture's crap and you'll probably find you're emulating your parents when you used to bring home models from nursery. Am I right in thinking that it's the bottle-like think in the middle that is causing confusion? You see that is an integral part of the kit! It is a bottle! What's more, it's a water bottle!! So here is my design for a home-made douche. I'm aware you can buy them but as anyone who does D-I-Y will tell you there's some satisfaction in doing it yourself, aside from the fact that this cost, well, virtually nowt!

You will need:-
A length of hose
length of garden hose
I've got garden hose here, but clear hose of about that diameter might be better. (Come on, this was knocked together from thought to product in 20 minutes!)

A small funnel
plastic funnel
Metal ones are available but I think you might find that clearish plastic is better.

Half a ball-point pen casing
half a ball-point pen casing
Make sure it's the 'pointy' end that you write with, you'll want it to be smooth (trust me!) and unbroken. Ignore the white stuff on the picture that is...

Masking tape
soap or liquid detergent, and
a hot water source (kettle or hot running water).
50cl water bottle (those with a squirty top are ideal)

Putting It Together
If you want to be really clever, you could use superglue to make sure the objects in the end of the hose don't come out. This would also make sure that you get a good seal at both ends, but it does mean that the funnel is in there for life (Who gives a fuck about the pen! It's dead already. You killed that when you ripped it's insides out!!)

In Use

You might want to repeat this. I wouldn't do it more than twice and it is important to not do it too often as you are getting rid of not just the crap (sorry!) in there but also some of the good stuff that protects you (call it casualties of war!). Also, wait a few hours if you're doing all this to be clean for sex, you need to let the whole system 'repair' itself and build up the 'good bacteria' that protect you. The 50cl bottle is about 1/2 litre. This is a good amount. It's not recommended to put more than a litre inside you or you run the risk of flushing everything back into your body - not a wise idea.

It's messy. It's fun. It works. And it feels damn good!

Enjoy The Silence

All I ever wanted
All I ever needed
Is here in my arms
Words are very unnecessary
They can only do harm

Enjoy The Silence [Violator : Depeche Mode]

Chicken Soup Overdose - Bad For Your Health

Micheal came over last night. Got to admit that I spent the day fretting about it. What was he going to say? What was I going to say? Was I going to end up laying into him (verbally)? Was I going to tell him to just fuck off? Was he going to tell me it was over? Spent most of the day mulling all of those and more over in my head. Eventually, the 'chicken soup' started swimming around in my mind.

The 'chicken soup' reference is from my college days. We used to have a drinks machine that did coffee, tea, chocolate, orange, a selection of soups (and something that they said smelt like paint stripper). It didn't matter which button you pressed, whatever you asked for was chicken soup. You might ask for orange, it may have looked like orange, but you could guarantee it would taste like chicken soup. So chicken soup has become the term I use to refer to what comes out when a reasonable thought gets processed and processed and processed. It winds up as chicken soup.

In some ways I'm quite proud of the fact that I was able to fit my new hard drive and not damage my computer. What's more it works. OK, so I dislodged the sound card putting it all back together and got confused by the 'PCI interrupts' warning when I booted back up, but anyone could have done that! Open it up, push the card down. Sorted!

He sent me a text to let me know what train he was catching. I looked up it's arrival in Manchester, and then followed the progress of the train, to see how late it would be using Network Rail's 'Live Departure Boards' site. Small things and small minds, maybe, but I thought it was great. He sent me a message saying the train was just outside the station, not to come out and meet him half way (he was walking down) as there was no point in us both getting cold. I text back: 'ok. but just wanted to do something to stop me pacing the floor. and the exercise would do me good'. But then I thought more, and thought, fuck it, I am going to meet him half way.

We meet at a crossing. It's not that cold but I have a scarf half covering my face. I'd spotted him walking up and was sure it was him. As he got to the crossing it was confirmed. He apparently wasn't sure whether it was me or not, he didn't think it was. I kept looking over the crossing at him. I wasn't sure whether he'd recognised me. After all, I was wearing dark colours and a coat I knew he'd not seen before. Just before the lights changed so he could cross I pulled the scarf down so my face was completely visible. He had recognised me. He said later it was something about my eyes. We walked back making chit-chat.

Back in the house we stripped off our outdoor clothes. I went to put the kettle on - my 'instruction' was to have coffee ready when he arrived. Went back into the living room. 'Come here', he said, 'have a cuddle.' We embraced. 'But no kissy-kissy'. (I'll explain about that later.) He kissed me on the cheek and I kissed him back on the cheek and held him tighter. I'd needed that. I didn't want to let go.
'Love, you've lost weight.' He said with concern, 'why?'
'I've been tearing my hair out, and worried sick.' I could feel myself starting to flare. I stood back and noticed my arms swinging violently. I stopped myself. I went into finish the coffee's. 'Oh, love!' I heard him say as I went into the kitchen his voice with more concern. He sat down and I brought the coffees in.

We started talking. More general chit-chat at first. Probably about an hour of it. It felt like an eternity had passed since we'd last done that. Then he remembered something and went over to his bag. Because he was concerned about me throwing up the other night with these tablets he said he'd bring some that tablets that he doesn't need anymore that are to prevent that. I went straight to the side-effects. Guess what? Another tablet that will affect me sexually. Joy!!

So then we got on to my tablets.
'What they given you?' He asked.
I told him the name.
'Never hear of them. What are they?'
'It's an SSRI. Same family as Prozac. Apparently they're not as bad, but if you read...' I said. He'd started reading the leaflet.

He thought hard about the SSRI bit, and then the penny dropped. The leaflet mentions other drug classes and I could see him thinking 'what the fuck?' as he was reading. The more he read the more concerned he appeared to get. I think he started to understand my flair up on Sunday and that it genuinely wasn't all me, but a lot to do with the Citalopram and my body getting used to it. There were occasional A-ha's, mm', right's and other murmurs that kinda indicated comprehension. He turned back to the front of the leaflet and started reading the 'Do not take this medication if you can answer yes to any of the following questions' section. He read the first question which was about contemplating suicide.
'I know'. I said. His expression was, like, is it wise for this kid to be on these?
'You told the doctor?'
I nodded slowly and deliberately. My expression I'm sure matched his.
His eyes rolled to the ceiling and back.

We then spent 5 minutes trying to fold the info leaflet back so it would fit in the box. He nearly got it. I got him to hand it to me and showed him.
'Isn't it a great sense of achievement when you can fold it so that it goes in the box and you can get the tablets in as well!' I chuckled.
He laughed. A cross between laughing at me, at himself, at us and at 'the sadistic twat that they pay to fold them like this!'

'So why you like this? What's brought all this on?' He started to go on thinking it was centred around my status.
I interrupted him. 'I'm pretty sure it's nothing to do with my status. Well, not all of it.' I didn't tell him that I'd read my early diary entries yesterday or the day before.
'I think I know some of it, based on what I've seen.' He said, noticing some writing on the living room wall. I'd previously explained that to him from one time Pete sent me over the edge.

We got talking about my relationship with Pete, the reasons why we broke up. How Pete was convinced it was 'just a phase I was going through' and how we'd be back together. And how Pete held me responsible for his depression. Micheal observed that if Pete couldn't see what was in front of him then his depression was his own fault. I had to agree. We spoke about the shit with boyf and Mart and how I was happy that things were finally getting back to normal with Mart.

As we were talking Mart sent me a text message asking could he lend a tenner for Friday. 'Sure babe', I began to text back, 'When do you want it? The money, that is!' I got an equally flirty message back also wishing me good luck with Micheal. I giggled as I put my phone down. 'Text-flirting with Mart. Things are back to normal!' I said happily. Micheal smiled. He knows how important Mart is to me.

We spoke about work and how things had been getting out of hand at work. How priorities had changed which meant that some projects had been put on hold. That those projects now had to come back on stream with more new projects popping up quicker than you can say 'jack-rabbit'. Too much work and no where near enough time to do it!

Then I got onto the situation between me and him. I spoke openly and freely as I knew there was no point in hiding anything from him. He had to know how I was feeling and I had to try and make him understand. I hope he already realises that a lot of my character at the moment is being distorted by the depression and that somethings are going to get worse, much worse, before they get better.

'It's been three weeks since I last saw you. And I've missed you so much. Do you know, it's been five, no six weeks since we last had sex!' I said.
He looked puzzled. 'It's not been six weeks since your birthday?'
'I mean, since you last fucked me.'
'Ah. Sex! You mean the full-bang!' he mused.
'Yeah. But it's not just about the sex.'

He'd gathered that I was confused about the relationship we had. I went on to talk about how I was when I first met him. He was surprised that I was able to give him the month. I said March, he thought April, actually May! That at the time going into a relationship was the last thing on my mind. When I met him I did think he was a lovely guy, someone I would like to get to know, very attractive, a great catch for somebody. But not for me. That wasn't what I wanted. He pulled me back on this: 'but what's changed now?' Curiosity was across his face. I explained that as I'd got to know him over Mardi Gras I'd fallen for him. Hook, line, sinker, the whole fucking battleship! Enlightenment dawned. It was the morning after the fracas with Chrissy that reality hit me and I realised that this was the man I wanted. Without realising I had fallen in love.

And then there is this whole syphilis thing. To be clear about this, it's been confirmed that LittleOne (previously known as Twat, but I've mellowed) has had this in his system for over a year and knew nothing about it. There's also been Chlamydia and Scabies. We've all had the latter two. Micheal is still awaiting results on the first. I haven't been tested yet as I needed to talk this through with Micheal first.

Before I got too far into this Micheal stopped me. 'The reasons we've not seen each other so much are money, health and time.' Admittedly, we've both been skint. I mean really skint. That's affected us both. And looking back now I know that he's been as upset and annoyed at not being able to see me as I have. The health thing because he has been worried about LittleOne. Being honest and fair I've also been worried about him. And time, well LittleOne is having the daily doses of penicillin for the syphilis and has not been reacting well to it, but is getting better. He's got eleven more treatments.

Micheal's completely off sex at the moment, both in his head and his crotch. Seeing what they're pumping into LittleOne's buttocks, the way they're doing it, and how he's reacting, has put him right off. I know it's something he'll snap out of. I mean, come on, this is the guy who once said to a doctor 'if that stuff makes that [his dick] not work, either change it for something else or shoot me now!' I know he meant it.

I said that being so far away with all that going on I'd felt completely left out of it. Left outside, alone and in the cold. He pondered this and I could see that he agreed and sympathised with my point of view. I'd done the chlamydia and the scabies all by myself. They'd gone through it together. There was no one there apart from me to deal with it. Micheal mentioned that LittleOne had no one he could turn to, something I already knew, and asked me if I knew what that was like. He understood that I felt that way at the moment, but for me it wasn't the case. 'At the moment I'm picking him up,' (he gestured picking a rabbit up by its ears) 'and making sure he's alright. And it's what I'll do with you if you have to go through this.' I interjected that I knew this but I thought he'd dropped me. I put my hand out and he grabbed it and squeezed. I could feel tears welling in my eyes but I didn't actually cry. 'I need to understand,' he began, 'and you need to understand as well.'

At that moment I felt very small. Stupid even. I told him that I knew everything he'd told me was right and that I already knew it. But that my mind was just distorting everything. But I knew two things. And knew them for sure. That I loved him, dearly, and plain just can't do without him. And that he does love me, even though he doesn't really subscribe to this thing called 'love'. Either way, I'm still in his heart and he's gonna stand by me.

We spent the rest of the evening with him lying between my legs with my arms around him watching films: The Core, and Blade II. He slept in his underwear and he noticed my puzzled expression when I saw this. He'd been told that syphilis is highly contagious and certainly it is on the rise in Manchester. Got to admit that I don't know enough about that one. 'Roll over, and I'll give you a cuddle.' he whispered. I did. He put his arms round me and held me tight. I gripped his hand. I didn't want to let go. 'If you start itching don't you blame me!' He giggled. 'If I start itching, I start itching. I don't care. You're here with me now, and that's all that matters to me at the moment.' And I kissed the back of his hand. We laid like that for a while. Then he had to reclaim his hand. I was gripping it that tightly I was giving him pins and needles! Still behind me he started stroking my shoulder, my neck, the side of my head, my spine. And then small butterfly kisses. The touch and the kiss let me know that I was safely there in the places that matter, the places that count.

I slept the best nights sleep I've had in weeks. Actually slept right through from 1am to 7.30am (barring a few moments when his phone went off at 5.30. he's gonna kill one of his mates). I remembered a salutation he said to me after he'd given me a drink at his home once: Never above you. Never below you. Always by your side. The sentiment was as real and honest then as it would be now.

Monday, November 22, 2004

It Must Be Cold Out There...

...She's Wearin' Knickers!


Yes it is cold out there. Well not as cold as the last few days.

Guess who suffered another side effect this morning? Yep. 6.30am, bed is covered in chocolate sauce! And I'm wearing knickers 'cos I just don't trust myself for it not to happen during the day.


I've had a comment from GayCanadianXPartyBoy relating to my post on All Is Ok. I Think.... I was going to respond just in the comments, but I thought I'd share it. After all, one of my reasons for this blog was to share what I'm going through.

They put me on something called Citalopram. It's an SSRI (Selective Seretonin Reuptake Inhibitor) and part of the same family as Prozac. I've looked through the first two sets of side effects on the information leaflet that came with them. And yep, I've got about 3/4 of each!! Generally I'm feeling fuzzy. That's the best way to describe it. For me that's pretty strange as I usually react pretty well to most drugs (especially those of the 'recreational' variety). If I'd have known it was from the Prozac family when I was at the docs I probably would have refused it. An ex of mine went on Prozac and it was a serious contributor to the break up of our relationship. It took a strong man and turned him into a cabbage. But if the docs say this is what I need, then I suppose I have to at least try it. There's more about depression here.

Just after I started taking 'e' I did a lot of internet research about it's effects on the body and how to do it safely. My brain doesn't really understand biology but I learnt a lot. I suppose that comes from the part of me that wants to understand how things work. This slide show is excellent. In a nutshell, 'e' causes the brain to over-release Seretonin which is a natural chemical. Seretonin is responsible for the 'happy' mood amongst other things. Over time, the brain tries to clear the excess Seretonin in an attempt to recyle (to produce more Seretonin). It is the reuptake transporters that reclaim the Seretonin that drugs like Citalopram and others try to impede.

Boy mentions about feeling like he was on 'e' when he first started depression meds. Can't say I've felt like that. Even the fuzziness doesn't feel like 'e'. I quite like that fuzziness, it's part of the things that makes me feel 'boing'! Lethargic, apathetic, heavy are more like what this is giving me. I can't say I've ever had an irrational thought on 'e'. True, maybe some wierd or random shit, but there's always been a path, a line of logic to give it some sense. I know I'm thinking irrationally now. And the worst part is that I know! But I can't help it. I can understand what I should be feeling but am trying not to get confused about why I'm not feeling it. Basically, trying not to think about it.

I spent an hour yesterday thinking about ringing Micheal. I'd been out to buy a new hard-drive so this was during the aborted attempt at fitting it (aborted because I need a mounting bracket). At the end of the hour I couldn't work out what I wanted to say, so I decided I'd send him a text message. Two hours later it's a wonder my phone is still in one piece let alone working, I can't remember how many times it flew across the room. The message got sent and eventually we spoke. He tried ringing but I ignored the call, didn't feel like talking. I ended up screaming at him over the phone and hanging up. I sent him a message to say I was sorry and we've kinda patched things, I think. I'm not used to being so hot-headed and I don't like it. He tried to humour me by saying that there's no point in smashing my phone up unless its insured. I was quite impassive in response, 'yeah, but it felt like a good idea'. Haven't told him yet that I nearly put my foot through the kitchen bin because it was there!

He has to go to the hospital himself this morning. The he's coming over later. I told him that all I needed was a day to see him. I think just seeing him, having him with me, having him hear me in person, will help me. I find phones impersonal at the best of time, which is part of the reason why I didn't want to discuss any of this over the phone with him. Plus I need him to see first hand what a state I get myself into. I'm pretty calm at the moment, surprisingly, but I know pretty much for sure that I'll flare up later. We spoke late last night, after I'd calmed down and I was ok. So you can definately say that the mood swings are violent. He's concerned that I'm not sleeping, and thinks I should ask about sleeping tablets. It's worse than my previous bouts of insomnia, the old tricks aren't working this time. Also the nausea and vomiting are of concern to him. I can't really afford to bring food back up, especially as the feeling and my mind are not conducive to eating. And shake!!! My whole body feels like it's in spasm. I had to sign my name to receive the hard drive yesterday. The signature was worse than the one I did when my wrist was in plaster. Thank god the cutie who served me (my height, blond, blue eyes and very sweet face) didn't compare it to what's on my card.

Well, I've achieved one good thing today, at least. The landing light bulb blew yesterday morning. No, Friday night. Oh, I can't remember (another worrying thing, another side effect). And I just couldn't face changing it. Yesterday the bulb in my work room went and I had to change that one or I'd not have been able to fit the new drive (which I will do today after I get the mount). The landing light is right over the banister. I have to get step ladders to change it and I never like doing it. Vertigo and a fear of heights. As I was changing it this morning I was trying to keep myself focussed on my task and not have thoughts about pushing myself over the banister - the top step puts me at calf-height compared to the banister rail. So I'm pleased with myself for that.

And as for sex. Well, let's just say that that one's going to be interesting. The information leaflet contradicts itself: one part says loss of libido another says increased libido. It's not changed that, yet. True I'm not as horny as I have been of late. I can get an erection. Can't fucking keep it! Even tried using some of my best porn on the computer - five guys and a sling (yummy!), big black men (ooh, heaven!) - and still can't stay up for more than five minutes at a stroke. Maybe it will be different with someone else there, that's if we end up having sex tonight. It seems like years since we last did. So it looks like I might have to explore Viagra. I've done it before, I quite like it, and as long as I take my nasal spray for my rhinitus I'm ok. I mean, it's ok being a bottom, but you gotta give the other party something to grab hold of!

Saturday, November 20, 2004

Anal? Me? Oh, Shove It Up Yer Arse!

I've set myself a bit of a task and I know it may seem strange but I want to find out more about the anatomy of my arse! True, some people in the past have called me 'anal' but I think they're meaning 'retentive' and not 'fixated'. So what if I absorb a lot (an awful lot) of useless information? You just never know when it might come in handy.

Basically my current knowledge kinda stops at the inner sphincter. I know that there's more going on beyond that point and that it gets messy in there. This diagram kinda clears (ahem) things up a little:

male genital anatomy - cross section
The Sex Project

So much is mentioned about the Prostate Gland but this is the first time I've known really seen where it's supposed to be. My best friend at school told me that it was 'an inch in and up to the left'. Of course, I'll need to try and map the image against myself! Another thing that I've learned is that in an average adult the distance between the inner sphincter and the union between the rectum and colon (sigismoid) is approximately 40cms. This union is essentially a third sphincter-type thing that deals with the waste going down. Lovely! Just trying to visualise 40cms against my own body. I'm sure I've remembered that wrong (can't find the link now! bugger!!) as 40cm puts that point about half-way up my back.

With the two sphincters the outer one is one that you can control (your backdoor, if you like!). The inner one is more involuntary reacting to pain, fear, etc.

There were two main reasons for me wanting to know what was beyond the inner ring: a. so I could workout what some people bang into when they go into me, and b. how a lump of shit I found could still be in there!

I'll deal with b first. Sorry for the graphic nature of this, but as I was 'preparing myself' recently at McDonalds I managed to get two fingers up and felt something towards my back. It was squidgy but I couldn't manage to work it out, and I gathered that it was a lump of the brown stuff. I have to be careful with Micheal being to vigorous as sometimes he pulls himself out a bit and there's 'chocolate sauce' (as he puts it) over everything. The smell of which knocks him soft. Now we all know that there's gonna be muck up there. The other thing was that I was amazed at was the apparent size of the cavern I have in there. I was expecting a narrowish tube and not something the size of Westminster Cathedral. So I figure that once I manage to get a thick one in there there shouldn't be that many problems - apart from the chocolate sauce issue, but I think I got a fix for that! I'm already aware that the male sphincters should be able to expand to 10cm diameter (probably with exercise and practice). I mean, 40cm is just under 16 inches and 10cm just under 4 inches.

Ah, a little more research indicates that the rectum is 'the last 8 to 10 inches of the large intestine'. The previous 6 foot (whoa!!) is the colon.

So biologically we could all be bucket-arsed bitches!

And I've worked out an answer to a. There is a twist on all the pictures and diagrams I've seen, sometimes forward, and sometimes to one side, at the top of the rectum. Obviously this is what is being hit: the bend in the rectal cavity. Though I'm led to believe that everything moves around in there. So maybe, if gentle enough, a fucker might be able to 'massage' that kink straight. Just a thought.

This link indicates ways you can attack the prostate gland from different angles. Maybe this has a different effect? I don't know. Websters Online Dictionary comes back with an amazing amount of information about 'rectum'. And just for fun!

Friday, November 19, 2004

Push Me Higher!

Really enjoyed myself last night. Had a great time with Mart, and it was good to see Kath again. The whole friction-thing about boyf is over between me and Mart. Last night saw us both laughing and joking as if 'that' whole sorry affair had never taken place.

We met up in town last night as he was on his way home from work via his boyfriends place. Poor lamb was frozen when he met me. I'd walked into town so knew it was cold but didn't even contemplate that there would be any snow anywhere! It was a bit of a shock later when I heard that.

How do I begin describing last night? Well, we met in Thompsons. While I was waiting for Mart I got talking to a really nice bloke. We had a bit of a laugh taking the piss out of some of the customers and staff and he appeared to be well into me. If I'd have wanted to something more could have happened with him, but I was meeting Mart and, to be honest, even if the option had been broached I think I would have declined on that occasion. Nothing to do with him, he was pretty attractive; good sense of humour; fabulous personality. Just that I'd already set my mind on how my evening would be. Think I needed it to go to plan, as it were.

So Mart turns up, and we have a drink, and pop a pill. Then off licence to get some alcohol (vodka, of course) and a taxi back to Marts. Mart had mentioned earlier about going back to mine, but I wanted a change of scenary. We're talking in the taxi like two old fish wives. Yap, yap, yap! God knows what the taxi driver thought. Though we got onto one conversation where I said I'd have to tell him the rest of it when we got back to his, that it was 'too graphic to talk about in the taxi'. Mart knows I'm pretty graphic when I talk about things, and his eyes widened at this as he kinda guessed about how graphically I was gonna complete this story. He laughingly called me a filthy whore. Yes, it was business as usual.

In Mart's room we broke out the vodka and started the music. We listened to so much that night that it would be hard to recall everything - somethings I know got played more than twice because we'd forgotten about listening to them. Talking, laughing, joking. Explaining to Kath, who joined us for a while, that sometimes we weren't being rude, just that we could understand each other because we were on the same stuff (and same wavelength) and that alcohol alone didn't match up. I likened it to her speaking to us in a mixture of French and English. We'd be able to understand the English bits, but the French would have us in 'what the fuck?' mode. Mart also pointed out to her that music became more important than talk. How very true! So there was Mart and I sat on the floor bopping with Kath on the end of the bed motionless.

About an hour in I decided to get changed into something more comfortable. I'd packed some shorts and a t-shirt for the evening. So I went to the bathroom to get changed while Mart made a phone call to someone he was visiting over the weekend. When I came back he made a comment to his friend that his mother had just walked in 'dressed like she's going to Essential'. 'Not quite,' I said, picking up my baseball cap and drink. 'Now I'm ready!' I picked up my phone to send a message to Micheal to let him know I was at Mart's and the phone number. He rang shortly afterwards. I can't remember much of the conversation with him but I know that he kept trying to talk serious with me, about how I was. I just can't do serious conversations on drugs, sorry, but my brain just ain't wired up for that. It was good to hear his voice though I missed half the conversation. As Mart had said, music overtook the talk. So I said to him that I was gonna go. He wished me a good evening, to be careful, to enjoy myself and that he'd ring me tomorrow. So now we really let our hair down.

The next few hours were louder music, more talk and more pills. 'You want another?' 'Aye, go on then!'. Yes, tonight, we were going for the mong!

Needless to say, it ended up with the pair of us in Mart's bed. The clothes came off and, well, we kissed and held each other, and played around a bit. Apparently I was being a bit random in some of the things I was saying, including me asking Mart to shove a pill up my arse! Well, I got half of one up there. Hmm, interesting, and I will be doing that one again! And I got Mart up there as well. To me, that confirmed once and for all that the situation between us was completely cool.

By about 7am we'd both passed out and were sleeping. We were both a bit restless but got a few hours.

Spent most of today with Kath and Mart. It was a little like living with 'The Return Of The Living Dead'. We went to get cigarettes this morning, and what a mission that was. It was fucking hard work, and bitterly cold. We were both walking very stiffly, and I had huge problems trying to get words to come out of my mouth correctly. Music was on in the background and every so often Mart and I would zing up and then come back down again.

Kyle came round about lunch time. He knew I was going to be there and knew that we'd spent the night with each other. The inevitable question came from his lips 'well, did you fuck?' We both said no, as Kyle doesn't really approve of the sexual side of our relationship. Mart's eyes danced, he'd remembered something from the previous night. He tried to mouth it to me, but I couldn't tell what it was so asked him to whisper. It was me asking him 'do you want to go inside me' and his replying 'yeah, alright'. There's a chance of us going to Amsterdam next March so we were talking about that. Now that could be fun! Then Kyle got a taxi to take him back to work.

I left with Mart when he left for work and I got the bus to take me home. Before I left I thanked Mart for last night and he said that he'd enjoyed it. Really enjoyed it. He's always going to be there, and I love his dearly for that.

Thursday, November 18, 2004

My Charts

Finally remembered today that I needed to sort out appointments for my next set of blood works. So they're now all set up now.

The charts I've got on here are out of date. I had a major hard disk crash during my 'break' period. I lost everything including the original spreadsheet that held all the data. The loss was inconvenient and I lost some important stuff for work (whoops! Back-up? What back-up?) But the thing I was most upset by was losing my charts. Fortunately they can be re-created and I'll make sure there is more than one copy of the spreadsheet!

Can't remember the exact figures, but my last counts were even better than the original baselines!

Ball Torture. Now I Remember...

For months I've been wracking my brain trying to remember who it was I'd been with that liked 'heavy duty ball play'. Came to me last night while I was recounting Ben's phone conversation with Daddy to Pete: James!

It's been one of those questions you ask yourself, and you know the answer, but it always escapes you. So now I know!

All Is OK. I Think...

You know how I said that I'd missed so much out by bullet-pointing? Well I think this is going to be one of those posts that might end up a bit of a ramble, but will certainly cover some of the 'lost ground'.

It could be said that the relationship between Micheal and me is a 'modern' one. After all, there's a distance component to it - 100's of people are in a similar situation. We both knew from the outset that living with each other permanently was a non-starter, and we both have strong ties to our own localities. Also, we both know that we're no angels when it comes to being faithful! We're both grown up and adult enough to understand these 'complications', accept them as a fact of our lives, but still know that we're there for each other. I've read somewhere that in most relationships where there is a positive status involved that the relationship almost appears to have more than the normal compliment of people. So from the outset it was me, him, my status, and his status. That makes four!

Here's where it gets interesting. The sixteen year old, I'm calling him 'Twat' for the time being, has turned into a shag that didn't go away. Yep, that's right. That makes five in our relationship. Told you my family was dysfunctional! He's got serious hots for Micheal. Micheal originally responded in kind. But the kid has a shitty background and has ended up living with Micheal. He's got problems, some of which I'm not about to talk about here. Micheal originally wanted to help sort him out, but, well, it appears things have gone a little wacko.

Turns out that Twat has got syphilis. There's every chance that he's passed it on to Micheal, and consequently a chance that I've got it as well. Despite having a negative test for it a while back Micheal was describing a 'mark' on the end of his dick and I suggested that they get it looked at as it sounded similar to primary indications of syphilis. Well, I was right! So Twat is having these huge penicillin injections and is not taking very well to them. Micheal, being the caring soul that he is, is being there to nurse him through it. Though Micheal doesn't want the relationship aspect. Or at least that's what he's telling me.

I can cope with the additional body in the relationship. Though, I admit to not being best pleased about it as I have this age thing, and sixteen sets off alarm-bells in my head. If he were eighteen/nineteen I'd have no problems. But this is a young sixteen as well. Micheal has said that he hopes the kid gets bored as he aint going to get it all his own way (he wants Micheal to himself, all to himself) and eventually just fucks off. The strain of looking after the kid is taking it's toll on Micheal, but he doesn't want to just chuck him out as the kid has nothing. I mean, nothing. Myself, I wouldn't like to see anyone in that state. But I learnt long ago that you can only help those who want to be helped, and at the moment, Twat doesn't seem to be playing this game. But he has learned that I ain't going to be giving up easily.

Let's throw another twist into this. I went to the doctors today, made an appointment this morning. I've been away since Sunday, done the equivalent of a full working week by Wednesday. I should be knackered. Mentally and physically I am. But I can't sleep. Not only that, but I'm getting some seriously weird thoughts. The suicidal ones are funny, if you can take them out of context: 'I wonder what it would feel like to let go of the steering wheel [driving down a dark motorway] and the car go into the central reservation?', or 'no, turn the wheel a little more, it's a long drop off that side of the road!', and, 'oh yes, I'm supposed to wait on the pavement before trying to cross a road aren't I!'. Then there's the sudden emotional outbursts, and crying for no apparent reason, and wondering what you've just been crying about. I mean, I spent five minutes crying this morning after I made the doctors appointment. Huh? By 1pm today there had been ten outbursts like that. And I hate the multiple outbursts. Why can't I orgasm instead?

I'm ratty and cranky, which I usual attribute to not sleeping properly. I know I'm over-worked. And I've spent more time today biting my tongue to prevent me from tearing peoples heads off than I can ever remember doing. The doctors receptionist only said to me that 'emergency' appointments were only five minutes long!

Doctor says I'm depressed. Has given me a sick note for a week and prescribed me anti-depressants. Little drops of happiness on prescription? I think not. And it looks like I'm going to be on them for the next 6 months, certainly a minimum of 3. Appears that this has been on the boil for a while but only just come to a head. Interestingly it all appears to be unrelated to me being poz. I'm at odds with everything in the world around me apart from my status. Figure that one out!

Micheal decides last night on the phone that he's coming over tonight and not over the weekend as he has to go with Twat on Saturday for the next round of injections. I send him a text message this morning saying that he's probably better not coming tonight. I'd arranged to meet Mart anyway as we've not spent any decent time with each other in ages. I'm pretty sure he'll buck me up somewhat. I hope so, 'cos I hate feeling like this.

The worst about my current state is that Micheal doesn't know the half of it! This isn't the kind of thing I'm comfortable with talking about over the phone. I've let him know there's a problem, a big problem, and I've let him know that I can only talk about it face to face. The text message I sent on Tuesday night telling him that all was not right with me got a reply that 'he understands'. Whoo hoo! Is he in for a shock or what?!?

So the one person in my life that I want to see the most, that I've been desperate to see for an eternity, I turn away because I'm more likely to verbally dissect him body part by body part than have a rational conversation with. He suggested that I could go over there this weekend. To paraphrase my response: NOT FUCKING LIKELY!! I mean, I've been away all week, the cat's missed me (bless her), I've missed being at home, I've been constantly on the go. Like I'm really going to feel better nurse-maiding Twat? Says he's going to ring me later. He he, now that could be fun!

Oh, and don't get me started on what to expect from these pills over the next fortnight. They know the side effects that I will get already:- more suicidal thoughts. And maybe, just maybe my new works laptop will go through the bedroom window over the next few weeks, not because it's pissing me off just because it seems like a good idea (thank god I bottom in sex, my urges to cause damage could prove fatal otherwise!). And it says that I shouldn't take them if I've been contemplating suicide...

But on a lighter note, I'm looking forward to getting completely and utterly wankered with Mart tonight. We're just starting to get back into talking in the way we used to with each other. I've missed that. And I know he'll be there for me through all of the shit that's in my head. Ahh, I love my little one... he's always going to be there...