On Friday I went over to Emmet’s house for the second time in a week. Emmet was the one I met last Sunday and enjoyed a lovely date with. It was like, romantic and everything. This time we had dinner in bed and watched TV until it was late and we got tired. There was some saucy fun, not an awful lot. He was able to climax really quickly; I of course couldn’t because that psychological block is still there. I really like Emmet but I don’t know if I like him as much as I liked Gareth. I shouldn’t be comparing all the men I meet to Gareth but I can’t help it. Gareth was the first man I ever experienced real feelings for, not silly obsessive infatuation but true reciprocated romantic feelings. Well, you might ask what the hell I mean by that and I probably wouldn’t be able to answer you. But I liked a Gareth more than any man I’ve ever met and I’m scared I’ll never meet anyone I can like as much again. I’m tempted to keep seeing Emmet, just to see what happens, whether my changing feelings settle down and I realise that he’s really good for me. I know he would be good for me; he’s a good guy, and God do I need one of those. I don’t want to run away from this one just because I feel like I’m getting bored after a week. I’ve identified myself as sexually anorexic this year and running away from relationships is an anorexic thing I have done many times over the years. I don’t want to abandon this new thing before I’ve given it a chance just because Emmet isn’t like Gareth, that would be really silly, though my head is telling me to do just that.
Today was my last day at home before I go on the spiritual writing retreat. I’ve been feeling a very strange mixture of profound fear and great excitement about it. The last time I felt anything like this was just before I left home in 2001. I’m only going away for five days but it feels like I’m leaving home again. How odd! I wonder if the sense of profound importance around this week is some kind of premonition. Will I be a different person when I come home next week? I was a different person when I returned to London the first time after moving to Norwich in 2001. My experiences back then proved that different places could change me. There was a special alchemy in that experience; I feel like there might be in this one too.
I wasn’t going to go to a meeting today, planning to spend the whole day writing at home as the upcoming retreat has caused me to have a rare burst of creative energy. I ended up at a meeting tonight anyway when I remembered the promise I made to myself to talk to someone from recovery once every day. I went to the SLAA meeting in Islington where I experienced a great deal of rage a few weeks ago. Somehow even then I knew I would go back eventually. Feeling anger in a meeting is often a sign that I am meant to be there. Tonight it was a lot busier, full of people that I strangely knew from AA, which was nice. I felt amongst friends, unlike a few weeks ago when I felt like the only sane (or possibly insane) person in the room. I also identified with all the sharing tonight, as there was a lot of talk about the shame associated with being gay in a straight world. Afterwards I spoke to people, got numbers, felt like maybe I would go again next week. I even spotted someone who I might consider asking to sponsor me. I really needed that meeting tonight. Afterwards I felt relieved of a whole lot of tension and anxiety. Now I am just looking forward to tomorrow. I don’t know what the hell the retreat is going to be like – they seem to have been deliberately vague about the specific itinerary. I don’t know who I’m going to be there and who I’m going to be when I get back in a week’s time; and it’s wonderful.