Most of the ones that got away did so because of timing.

Paul (not his real name, but he looked like a Paul. Or a Peter. Or a Stephen – with a ‘ph’ not a ‘v’) will never know just how perfectly wrong his timing was.

I met Paul in a beer garden. Again, most of the ones that got away escaped from beer gardens. Or pub lounges, if the weather was shitty. Metaphorically slipping out of the window when I was busy fucking someone else in the toilet.

(more…)

Most of my exes on Facebook now have children. This says less about the fertility of my ex-boyfriends than the people I stay friends with on facebook, to be honest. Still: of the ex-partners that I am still friends with on facebook, the majority of them have kids.

(more…)

When you’re here all the time, I forget who I am on my own. I paint a picture of myself that includes you and it messes around with the truer picture of what I’m actually like.

So this week, while you’re away, I’ve spent the time remembering.

(more…)

On Sunday morning when I slipped back into bed, I realised something: your body changes on a daily basis, and so I will never know every inch of it. It is always new.

From the scent of you, to the heat you radiate, to the marks and curves that come and go: I will never know every detail of your body.

(more…)

I’m not going to say the word. The V word. The one that’ll have half of you clicking away and the other half vomiting copiously onto the carpet.

But what I am going to do is write about non-sexual love. The love that I usually ignore here in favour of hot sex or wanking or – very occasionally – posts about men who give me that warm feeling in my chest.

Other kinds of love are often neglected – it’s the topic of one of my favourite posts over at BishUK: more than one love. He talks about everything and everyone we love but we never send cards to or buy roses for. Friends, family, community – the people who support and inspire and care for us.

(more…)