I couldn’t really have written this post before today. It’s New Year’s Day and I’m lying in bed, knickerless, unwashed and underslept after a very much- needed evening of slutty hedonism, silliness, dressing- up and legs akimbo laughter. In so many ways 2018 was a sparkling year in which I learnt and grew and achieved …
It’s been a fucking shitty fucking week. On Tuesday something happened which I’m advised by my redoubtable therapist not to discuss (we’re working through it in a focused way and it’s all good and positive, but I can’t go into it in any way that would currently be productive). Last night, not quite out of …
It hasn’t been an easy week. He is recovering from the closing of an enormously stressful chapter in his life; I have been struggling with overwhelming insecurities. Fears about our future, envy of the time he spends with other partners, terror that one day I will show him so many of these nighttime corners that …
You could write about what we get up to, he says. Turn it into a book, sell a million copies. We’ll be rich beyond our wildest dreams. I’m not sure if it’s an idea or an order. I will take it as the latter. *************** My arse is covered in wooden spoon bruises …