Death threats. Sadism. Pet killing. Torture. Leaving without word. Twisted messages scrawled on bog paper. Jumping through windows. Feigning disability. Games. Riddles. Numbers. Wheelchairs on roofs. Why the hell would I still want a man who does all that? Who I believe is capable of so much more. Why would I open the door to him tomorrow and forgive him absolutely? Well I have my reasons...

The things is this: John reminds me of someone (or he did)... someone I once knew and once thought I loved. My first weeks with him were because of that. In those days it wasn't John I was kissing, fucking, eating, etc, it was a memory – John gave me back someone I thought I had lost for ever. Through him I was able to revisit a past, a someone that had tragically and accidentally gone the way of history: died. But there was no foul play, what I'm talking about is a series of youthful mistakes, mistakes that tore our dream apart and sent us spinning headfirst into oblivion. John was the reincarnation of that dream (at first anyway). For a moment he resembled and reminded me of something which had once passed through my life. But very soon I was to realise, in my journey to recover something great, I had found an even rarer pearl. Out from the shell of a dead lover, John emerged as a person in his own right, and more; I realized that what I started feeling for John was something stronger than anything I had ever felt before. This was love; everything else was just practice. John made the past and everything in it seem worthwhile, like it was actually meant to happen. There was soon not an act I regretted, or a word I would take back; it all led to him. John was the answer to 29 years of shit.

By mid spring of the year we met, not only were John and I living together, but he had become my life. Just by laying near him I felt entire. My work was done. I had found completion and no man can ever need or require more than that. Just having known John and feelings like those I felt towards him, made me feel that even if I died, I couldn't ever have anymore than I already had. Maybe you will not understand that??? It's a very hard concept to express. But John gave me death; absolute fulfillment. Of course, that was before... before the bastard upped and left! Only then did I see how wrong I was. To taste is not enough ... it's never enough (unless one dies eating). We want/need the fruit, the pips, the skin and the stalk... more than what is ever on offer. In many ways i wish I never took the first bite, although I'll forever be eternally grateful I did. That is the contradiction of love.

Why John left all those weeks ago, I don't know??? Probably only he knows what was in that book which made him realize something so awful, so huge, that it took him and half his mind away. What I do know is that I can only reclaim myself by reclaiming John first. Even if it is just for a week, enough time to realise he doesn't exist, at least not in the way I have built him up to. But that is what must happen. If John cannot be John, then I need him to transform into the most sick, depraved, sadistic, lying, cheating monster this world has ever known. Maybe he will even have to kill me... maybe that's why the world and her dog thinks I'm a fated man


  1. Tristram
    some great stuff has been going on in my abscence. I loved the fete post, it had that Enid Blyton quality, that esential English thing running through it, then the ending was oure Twin Peaks. The story still scares me, I think it's because there are peroids are relative calm and then very concentreated whatever. Anyway lovely stuff, sorry I have not been around I was preparing my summer show, which is done and dusted now.

  2. 'I'm Fated man'

    My aren't WE important!

    Jesus Christ was a Fated Man.

    All I see here is yet another twisted queer affair. The sort I am currently plotting to ensure my nephew does not fall into (again).

    Seven and Thick Blue Glasses and the other Nerds have reappeared after their naughty vanishing trick, with their tails between their legs. (Actually Seven was the only one with his tail between his legs, but he was just showing off).

    I will find out what happened if it kills me. Which it won't. Although Seven will be a hard nut to crack. He will only say, with a sneer:

    'I am a Feted Man'.

    I have the use of a state of the art taser from one of our Catholic priest friends. Plus a batch of drugs which he days 'fairly loosens up the Alter Boys'.

    This shouldn't take long.

  3. Drugs and tasers are for sissies. I must send Abigail Winthrope (Mrs.) a bazooka.

  4. @ Nick: No probs, I've been a little slow myself these days. There were some mammoth posts and thern I fell behind. i'll be over to yours just when I'm finished here. X

    @ Winthrope Mrs (Abigail): Your nephew had a queer love affair? How queer? I suppose any romance involving that 50yr old geek would be pretty queer, but I've my fingers crossed you're talking cocks and arseholes... the full shebang! It's nice to hear the Catholic church has embraced modern technology and chemical warfare. It does seem the easiest way to alter the altar boys. X

    @ Jason: I think she herself is Tea-total.. which is a terrifying thing in itself. X


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