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The guards are indifferent as I sit in the small, sterile visiting room. The dull hum of fluorescent lights overhead makes the whole space feel even more oppressive. The wooden chair is uncomfortable, but I hardly notice. It's not the discomfort of the chair that bothers me; it's the absence of any meaningful connection to the world outside.

Then she walks in. My wife. Even behind the thick glass, I can see the soft smile on her face as she greets me. It’s a comfort, but also a reminder. She gives me new books to read—her thoughtful way of making the prison feel less isolating. Some novels, some articles, and even a few pieces of paper with notes from our daughter. I wonder how much she's changing, how much she’s learning without me there to guide her. She tells me about her latest school project, the way she’s growing up, and how she still asks about me every day.

I smile, trying to hold back the emotions welling up in my chest. But as she talks, as she updates me on her life, I can't help but feel a sharp pang of longing for the life that I had—and lost. I can't even hold her hand across the table, can't feel the warmth of her touch. Every word she speaks is a reminder of everything I’m missing, everything I’ve given up, and where I’m stuck.

As she talks about life outside, a life I can't be a part of, my mind wanders back to how I got here. My first love, and that night in the tent, was really the start of it all. Jayme leaving? In a sense that was the start of the beginning. Everything since then has been in the context of the dilemma he left me with. He was the person I had committed my life to, and yet he was the one to leave. The myth that BL relationships simply discard their partners once they outgrow their youthful appearance didn’t apply here. He was no longer the boy I had fallen for, but the man he was becoming seemed just as distant from the person I needed him to be. And I—once so sure about my love for him, about our future together—was left with a close friend, but nothing to satisfy my needs for intimacy or romance.

The dilemma that had quietly lurked in the background for years now sat front and center, demanding an answer. What was I supposed to do when the only people I felt any intense passion for were boys—boys much younger than me? It seemed there were only three choices in front of me, each drastically falling short of what I need, of what I desire. The first, obvious choice is celibacy, like the so-called "Virtuous Pedophiles" who try and stick to a monastic code of not offending, some even going so far as to avoid children altogether. This seems so intensely lonely and remarkable waste of talent when kids are so drawn to me just because of the fact that I'm willing to listen to them and am sincerely interested in what they have to say.

The second choice is a compromise relationship, otherwise known as a "lie." Plenty of gay men in decades past followed social convention into marriages with women, knowing they'd rather be with someone else. I could find an adult man, or maybe a woman, and although I might not really love them, at least they'd provide companionship. Would I ever be able to tell them that they don't turn me on, though? Would I ever be able to share my true interests? It seems like such a relationship would almost inevitably need to be founded on deception, if not active lying, then at least passive omission.

The final choice would be living the most truthfully and authentically, but it would also be spitting in the face of social norms and legal rules. To have a relationship with a young adolescent boy, who in Japan at the time may be above the strict age of consent, would still potentially result in international punishment. And like Ipce said, due to the way society treats such relationships, the need for secrecy, the feelings of shame and guilt, even if such a relationship itself isn't harmful, the secondary harms to the boy make abstinence the noble path.

Celibacy, deception, or criminal activity? Which would you choose? I think anyone that says without reservation that they could choose the first option is either being dishonest with themselves, or has some kind of sexual dysfunction. For someone with a non-exclusive interest, the second option seems obvious. But for me? I'd already known the sweet ambrosia of holding someone I loved in my arms after shared intimacy. While I knew to ignore the siren call, it echoed ever in my ears.

The guard knocks on the door, signaling the end of the visit. I didn’t really pay attention to her complaints about the marketing department at work. I feel a little guilty, but it’s not like I have any power to change anything. My mind is still buzzing with how I got here. You’d think I’d be done with self-reflection, but it’s an endless loop that seems to enjoy repeating itself.

As I’m escorted back to my cell, I start thinking about the ways I tried to find some semblance of peace with the dilemma I’ve been carrying, at least for a time.

I’d known I was part of a group often referred to as “BL” since I was 17, and I was aware of online communities that discussed these feelings. But I never felt a strong need to get deeply involved—just reading a few comments was enough for me. Now, however, the dilemma was front and center, and I needed answers. What did others in my situation do? How did they handle the reality of living with desires that they knew were hard to express in society?

It was around this time that I joined the Lifelife chat, a space where people like me could talk openly about their struggles. I spent time there, and it became clear that the choices I had in front of me weren’t as opposed to each other as I thought. One option that many seemed to find fulfilling, while not perfect, was living a celibate life while maintaining deep, affectionate, and supportive relationships with younger people, without crossing any legal or ethical boundaries.

This path wouldn’t be easy, especially for me—there would be a lot of self-control involved, especially since I knew firsthand the depth of the emotional and physical connections I could form. But it seemed like the only viable path for someone in my position, especially after losing the longest and most meaningful relationship I had ever known. For me, at that time, it seemed like the only option that could provide a sense of peace, and it felt like something worth trying.

That's as far as we've got. There's a fair bit of my voice in there, but a lot of the structures are pure AI, too. There are also bound to be a few parts that are non-sequitur and the voice, tone and style jump around a little bit. Yet seeing how my story could be structured made me think that I might like to get it all done some day, in much more detail. The story so far, it its abbreviated, clunky form, takes us up to about 2013.

Those who've listened to my interview with Little Nicky know the story from 2023 onward. There's a decade in between (including my decision to start looking for a wife and start a family). I might get around to that if people find it interesting.

Well, I am glad to inform you that your story did indeed reach us over here at MU. And you most certainly have a lot to say. I am so sorry that you are having to go through this. Are you there until court date or is this part of you r sentence? Please send us updates when you can.