The end of the beginning

At the information counter in Terminal 3 was stood a woman holding a board. On it was work's big 3-letter logo and my name underneath.

That's the moment that the game was finally up.

Sitting in the car on the M4 into West London it all just seemed liked a distant dream.

Chatting to Drew for the first time, picking up the guy at the gym, sailing to Clifton beach, getting drunk at gay pride.

I'm now at my desk. Someone came up to ask if I'd been away so I guess that means the tan is not as good as it could have been.

While waiting for the flight, having a drink with my parents my mum said; "Bobby, why do always come alone - don't you have a partner you'd like to bring?"

This is the first time in my life, at 29 years old that my mother has spoken so openly, in front of my dad, about me being gay, possibly having a boyfriend and wanting to meet him.

I had to tell her that, at the moment, there is no-one that special in my life.

But I assured her that I was not some lonely old spinster, on track to become unmarried and alone.

My dad said he hoped that I wasn't going to become a spinster, unless there was something else I wanted to tell them.

It was the best way to end things.

I guess my parents have come to terms with me - they must have done.

They have accepted that I'm not going to bring home a girl for my dad to meet. Or ask my dad for advice on marriage. Or share a joke with him about girls' boobs.

They must have been building up the courage for three weeks to ask me that question.

If I'm really honest, part of me is uncomfortable that all the issues and all the problems and all the shit that has haunted me for the last 10 years or more are all starting to disappear.

Oh please god, don't let me become balanced, happy and content.

Phobias, neuroses, loathings and anxieties... my dear friends, please don't abandon me now.