Wednesday 24th May, 1989.

‘I’ve grown wary of men over the last few weeks since that awful evening when Stephen told me he had got back with David. I still remember that smirk on David’s face as they held hands after announcing the news. It was that kind of smirk that I wanted to wipe off his face. How I resisted not punching him that evening, I’ve no idea.

My love life continues to cause me problems today when I bumped into Stephen again, and he asked, ‘Would I see him again?’ after telling me he’d made a dreadful mistake returning to David.

To say I was somewhat taken aback is an understatement. I was gobsmacked and didn’t know what to say. Ultimately, I asked if I could have some time to think about it. He’s handsome, but the fact that he went back to his partner over me rings alarm bells.

But worse was to come when Bob walked into Bromptons* tonight. Butterflies immediately started fluttering around my stomach.

Bob was with the guy I’d been hearing about. I’d heard rumours weeks ago that he was seeing somebody but didn’t believe them. Now I know that all I wanted was ‘NOT’ to believe them.

I don’t know who he is, but he looked miserable with Bob like he didn’t want any attention from him or, for that matter, anybody else in the bar.

So, here I sit tonight writing this entry, knowing that Stephen and I both seem to be heading for unhappiness. Stephen, because I’d be a fool going back with him (wouldn’t I?), and me? Because Bob completely ignored me. It’s as if the relationship we once had never happened. I still do not know why he ended what we had.’

*Bromptons was a gay bar in Earl’s Court, London.

Notes from the author.

That was the last entry in my diary from 1989. It was as if my life ended that day. But, of course, it didn’t. I simply stopped keeping a diary after that day, but I don’t know why.

As a very close friend from the time of this final diary entry once said to me – ‘There is no such thing as an ending. It’s just the point where we leave the story.’

After reading this entry, I’m still determining who Stephen is. I can’t remember him, but he obviously made an impression on me in the late 1980s.

Nor can I remember who the guy was with Bob.

However, I still remember Bob, what he looked like, how he talked, how he smiled, what he did for a living, and the address he was living at the time. I still remember what he wore the last time I saw him, what happened on our first date, and the first time our eyes met.

People enter and leave our lives daily. Some travel with us for a long time, whereas others swiftly cross our paths, never to be seen again. Do those who stay around and engage with us and who impact our lives do so for a reason? Do they protect us, warn us, guide us? Or do they enter our lives to put a stop to something?

Even though some people take us on journies to Hell and back when they enter our lives, those journies are probably life lessons that we should never forget. Unfortunately, we do because we end up making the same mistakes.

Fast forward to today, reading the diary entry took me back to my days as a young gay man living and working in London. What scares me more than anything is that I referred to Stephen going back to his partner as ‘alarm bells.’ Whereas I didn’t seem to think that alarm bells accompaned me when I started dating somebody who was already attached. Now I wonder how many people who entered my life back then heard those alarm bells.

At the time, London seemed like the safest place to live in the UK for a gay man. I felt a protective wall built around it kept us all safe. It was like a big comfort blanket. That’s why, in 1986, I chose to go and live there. But it wasn’t always safe. Nor was it always comfortable and protective.

Next month: – Jobs. Some jobs were easy – you could be yourself. But other jobs came with a warning if you were different.

If you enjoyed this entry, you may also enjoy reading, ‘True Stories: Gay Memories – The Day My Life Changed.’

Please feel free to ask me any questions by leaving me a comment.

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