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When I all I wanted to do was leave home, leave the arguments, leave the small town, the small mindedness. So I did it, I moved to London. Little did my family know, I moved there to be with the woman I loved. I lied with every inch of my body and I hated myself, a coward. I had this whole story of how she was my 'best friend' she accepted that part of me..we had 2 great years together but grew apart, we remained friends for years after and we both jumped in and out of relationships/encounters, I look back with fondness and memories of happiness and I'm so glad we knew each other but I still can't help to think I was hurting her the whole time, by not being honest and open. So this is how this whole thing started ... me being a closeted mess. I still lie about that relationship...

This is an extremely brief introduction as I intend not to bore you with too much detail, but you get the idea? Right? 

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