A Year Saved At The Death

There is an odd trait in humans. When the first phase of something is good and then bad we only remember how terrible things have become and mourn for what we have lost.

But when things happen the other way around we are much happier. Imagine… when something is rubbish to begin with we are unhappy. But then things go well and suddenly we’re really optimistic and cheerful about how things have become.

That’s what I’m left feeling about this year just ended. It started depressingly, although the actions I took in response to how I was feeling were somewhat out of character for me. For some odd reason, I decided that the answer to changing how I feel about myself was to look at my personal life, rather than the overbearing work life that I have. I decided to find out how I would react to exploring my long suppressed bisexuality…

Six months later, I began what I hope will turn out to be a long-term relationship. While in my own mind the whole thing is bizarre and has ended up being a pretty unlikely set of circumstances, I suppose my experience, which one day I will hopefully write up as a lesson for others, is actually fairly normal in the modern era. Meeting up with people via internet apps until, eventually, stumbling upon someone who I want to be with for a very long time.

In reality, that has been the biggest thing this year.

What makes it bigger is that it was not really even something on my radar this time 12 months ago. In this post there was almost no mention of anything to do with personal relationships: only in passing. Instead, everything I wrote about was business-related.

The second biggest thing flows exactly from that: virtually everything I predicted on that subject was wrong.

I thought I was on the verge of starting a house building empire. I thought that my “other business” was on the verge of greatness. I thought that my main business was on its way out. All wrong.

My main business has gone even bigger. I now have a business partner. I now am looking to take on some serious work, with lots scheduled for the New Year already. My other business is nearly completely without my involvement, as I’ve negotiated my way out of it due to falling out with the other partner over his continuous inability to not preserve money in the business. And the house building, and any other dream I had with it, is long since dead, abandoned in a glorious waste of thousands of pounds.

But on reflection, I’m happy with it all. The outcome couldn’t really be much better, when I was really worried that my life was just slowly driving into the mud. And that’s weird, as so many months of it were really stressful and difficult for me to just keep going. I honestly don’t think I’ve ever cried so much as I have this year…

As I write this, again, trying to avoid causing too much suspicion as to my secret scribblings, I am basically just waiting for the New Year so I can go to bed. It probably won’t turn out that way, as I’m sure I will enjoy myself at our small family gathering. But I can’t help being miserable at times. It’s just in my nature. I’ve been trying my hardest to adjust this so as not to constantly depress my partner too, but it’s been a bit difficult… it’s hard to change 30 years of nature.

Ah yes, 30. The repressed age. The age that has caused so many problems. For the whole year I’ve been telling people I’m 28, including my partner – though he does now know the truth. Yet somehow, I’m still 28 now in my brain. I . I will probably continue to lie until I’m ready to accept it. I hate ageing. I hate the way I look. I hate the lines on my face. I hate my hair. It’s just awful. I desperately hope there is something I can do, but there isn’t. I cling onto this hope that something will crop up as it’s a way of living in denial about the truth.

The truth that, slowly, I’m creeping towards death.

Yesterday me and my partner sat down together on some stone steps looking up to some incredible architecture in the city centre. It was a moment that summed up the year beautifully. We held hands (secretly, although there were only a couple of people passing) and just soaked up the moment and the atmosphere. We even risked a kiss. I don’t know why, but I don’t want to draw attention to myself. Maybe I’ll feel braver eventually. Society still feels tricky at times, and I’m not convinced it’s truly ready to accept complete equality of love openly in public.

It’s been a Really Good Year, in spite of the problems I’ve had and the problems I’ve created for myself. That’s right, a Really Good Year. I’m not sure there’s ever been one of those.

Thank you 2015. You’ve been a real eye opener.

10 Years of Blogging, 1 Year of Nothing

24 December, while being Christmas Eve, is also the day I normally celebrate my Blogiversary. The day in which I decided, in 2004, to start keeping a blog. It’s a day on which I reflect of all the things blogging has done for me, whether that makes sense or otherwise.

In most respects it has, because of the opportunity it gives me to vent. This year, however, it hasn’t. Not properly. I’ve used it very rarely, and, even then, only on the same subject of my attempt to come to terms with who I am. I suppose that still counts.

But it hasn’t been enough. I have made some mistakes this year. In fact, quite a lot. And sometimes just stopping and reflecting every week or two is an interesting experience, to think carefully about what I’ve done, and wonder whether the present course is doing me right.

I haven’t done that enough. I’ve been a bit more self-centred than I’ve ever been this last year. And that self-centredness has led to me even fewer periods in front of my computer. Just me, my brain and my typing fingers. Not enough times.

Never mind. Perhaps it was inevitable that one day I’d have some sort of significant change in my circumstances that meant I wouldn’t either a) feel the need; or b) have the opportunity to write about my life.

But right now, none of it matters. I am home, amongst my family, and with my partner. That bit is a secret. But the holiday, the relaxing, the family shenanigans… they are all real. And they make me feel happy.

The biggest irony? I type this while everyone else is watching EastEnders. A show I hate, and one my family watches. I hide while they get on with the inevitable. But I wouldn’t have it any other way. Families are all about acceptable compromises.

Merry Christmas.

Christmas With Two

There is a lot that hasn’t been written on here for quite some time.

The main reason is that I do not have an opportunity to do so any more.

It’s funny how life is completely different when you have a partner.

It was a bit weird to come to terms with at first, but now, after 5.5 months, it is just routine. And yet it’s not. Every day I wake up and think how interesting my life has become. How much more worthwhile living.

And yet it has also become more challenging. I have now a metaphor for my life, which technonerds would understand. Our relationship is like a RAID 0 array. When errors happen on one side, it affects the other. The whole array is reliant on constantly being in a good state.

Here we are at Christmas. It is, after much careful negotiation, and continuous subterfuge, a family Christmas. Me and my partner are both home, staying with my family. In separate beds. Back in the loft I used to live in.

It’s all temporary, of course. Yesterday, we drove the long drive Up North. It was fun and nerve-wracking. But it was worth it. We’re now a long way away from work, and now enjoying relaxing in other people’s company. It’s been nervous for both of us, as my partner gets introduced to the rest of the family without anyone actually knowing that he’s my partner.

Yes, he.

The other bit of my life, the bi-sexuality that I’ve always been in some denial about, has exerted itself. In the end, I had no control over it. It was emotional, and stressful. And I still don’t know for sure if I’ve made the right choice, and truly wish to stick with it.

But my partner has ended up being one hell of a find. And worth risking everything for.

How ironic that I write this with no one around. No chance of being overheard. In a snatched 10 minutes.

Here’s to Christmas.