Half imagined stories come and go without being written down. The garden is awakening and demands attention. My guitar stands idle and dusty as my finger tips soften. And now when I should be out running to clear my mind to work through Sunday I decide that I want to visit Wicked Wednesday and finally post something again. When I do I will learn of your stories and challenges and however briefly and distantly share something with kindred spirits. There has been a part of my life lived in secret for many years but the warmth and honesty of this community has helped me to not only come to terms with that but share the pleasure it brings.
These last few months have been hard. I know that these things are relative and try to keep a sense of perspective - I have much to be grateful for and the horrors that have happened in this same time period to others make my travails feel insignificant. But still I have a nagging sense that I am not coping as well as I should and that I am making mistakes that only make things worse. Writing this is a displacement activity, of course, because the deadline is approaching to finish something that I took on without any thought to help someone out. If I can finish it I will be paid but I really don't believe in what I am doing. Any yet to not finish it will not only let people down but will damage my sense of self worth so in an hour or two I must try again. I have almost recovered from the fall now but everyday I am reminded that two months without exercise takes a considerable toll on a body this old. I still don't understand how or why I fell and that nags at me too. My wife's illness is debilitating for us both. It may have been developing for years but still came out of a clear blue sky. It isn't life threatening but she can no longer do the things that she enjoys, things that are good for her mental health and help her keep the drinking to a manageable level. She is determined not to be disabled but watching her pain come and go is difficult. We will shortly begin the process of seeking surgical intervention and we know it is the only way to restore some of her mobility but it will be a hard road and impact us both for many months to come. The plans we had been making for a post Covid world are all now on hold and we increasingly live in the present. As I always do I have taken on too much work and some of things I agreed to do have not worked out as I hoped and I spend long hours trying to deal with them. Failure, even, when it is through no fault of my own is not something I accept easily. My libido has been dropping out for days at time but hasn't gone away completely. As always it can be triggered in unexpected ways but in the current circumstances that isn't always the welcome distraction it can be in better times. My wife's illness may well mean that our sex life which has been intermittent as best these last few years is over completely. I have found solace with Julia many times and while our relationship remains one of service provider and client we talk in between meetings and I know that she too has had a very difficult time during Covid. Each time things seem to be looking up she has encountered a fresh obstacle and her grit and determination in the face of adversity are extraordinary. I need the physical solace she offers me and I need it soon. They way she gives her body when we are together helps me mentally ans well as physically. I sometimes feel guilty that I feel no guilt but the title of that book from the 70s - The Joy of Sex - sums up what she gives me. (And to be honest I never got to do some of the things I read about in the book until I met Julia!) This was supposed to be about a Limited Edition something I have one of two examples of and I enjoy that feeling of slight superiority that their ownership offers but right now the Limited Edition I really crave is a day all to myself to relax, enjoy music, food, the trees, the flowers that beginning to emerge and then to have utterly uninhibited sex with Julia. Somehow before this day is over I will finally finish this damned piece of professional writing and then scour the diary to find a few hours when I can escape and let Julia work her magic on me.
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Old MikeAn old man called Mike remembers sex in London before the internet, rants about the hypocrisy of today's society and shares some links to the best companions around today...... Archives
November 2022
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