It's February! Which means later on this month it'll be 9 years (9 YEARS!) since I came out to myself and accepted my sexuality. Now what I keep asking myself is... why on Earth is this important? Why do I, even when I pretend I don't, look upon the end of February as some milestone of my life? It's absolutely pointless, without any relevance for my current circumstances.
Back then I was 14 years old (strangely called Jay), terrified by the realisation that all he'd been lead to believe about himself (marriage, kids) was a lie, and God was I unhappy! Now I'm a happy 23 year old with a long term boyfriend living in London and extremely happy that life never quite turns out the way you think it will.
1998 is held up by me as a sacred year. Anything that happened that year HAD to be good. Just look at the music charts. Brimful of Asha! Awesome. But it's more than a little strange this obsession of mine.
Oh well. On the 24th of February have a drink for Jae! I sure will be.
Now this year... let's try to find out the name of The Sixth Former, my first crush. He still has yet to be beaten for looks... except by Jim of course.
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