I tiptoe into the flat through the door she’s left unlocked, because I don’t want to wake her when I get in. On the pillow in the spare bedroom, she’s left a fresh towel and two chocolates, and seeing them makes my heart burst with love. I spy from the hallway that the light is on in her room, so I can’t resist asking: “psst – you up?” I could wait till tomorrow to talk to her, but I’m brimming with eagerness now. I can spill all the details over ham and cheese croissants at breakfast, but she is awake right now, so she says “yes! Come in! Report back! Did you get alllllll the spunk?”

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In my neverending quest to come up with new ways to remind you to BUY THINGS FROM MY SPONSORS PLS, I cannot quite believe I’ve never done this, the most obvious and fun thing of all. Here are some Valentine’s poems, with links to the absolutely brilliant companies that support my website. They’re here mainly as a reminder to you that every click on every link – in posts, on ads, and in tweets as well, helps me to keep doing what I do. If you like the poems, or any of the other content I write, please consider clicking these links and buying whatever sexy stuff your little heart desires – for Valentine’s Day, or any day. Cos roses are red, violets are blue, and I couldn’t do this if it weren’t for you.

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Quite a few of us right now are feeling anxious and down. I was very much wrapped in that feeling recently when a friend of mine sent me a virtual hug. It made my heart ache because what I wanted was to hold him – squeeze him really tightly and properly extract every drop of reassurance and comfort from that hug. But picturing that kind of hug weirdly did make me feel a little bit better. So I thought I’d have a crack at doing for hugs what I sometimes do with more erotic topics, and write it in the kind of detail that might help you feel it, if you’d like to. Here’s a virtual hug to which you’re welcome to help yourself, or pass on to a friend who might need one. 

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I don’t know if any of you have noticed, but I’ve been trying extremely hard not to write anything about my ex-boyfriend lately. Although I wrote a post about endings which I shared with people on Patreon, I didn’t publish that here in public and there’s been only one thing on the break-up diaries tag since the summer. Please dispense medals and cookies accordingly! Then immediately snatch those medals and cookies back, because inevitably I’m about to have some Big Feelings about him in this post! I’m allowing myself a quick burst of emotion for reasons that I won’t fully explain, but which I will try to justify with excuses that sound poetic but are only half the story. Getting over a break-up involves a lot of waffling and emotional incontinence! Strap in!

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Love is an addiction, and I am not good with addiction. I’m writing this post so I do not send a text: it’s that simple. I sit here at my desk, legs crossed on my office chair like I know I really shouldn’t because it’s bad for my back, and I press the buttons on my keyboard that will keep my hands busy so I do not send a text to my ex saying ‘hey, how are you? I was wondering if you fancied hanging out?’ Earlier this evening, I pressed other buttons – on the microwave, to heat up my dinner, so that I wouldn’t send a text. Later, when it’s reasonable enough that an adult might call it a night, I will brush my teeth so I don’t sent that text, go for a pee so I don’t send that text, roll my mattress out onto the floor and take a sleeping pill and have a wank and put on a podcast so I do not send that text. I will do all this extremely mindfully. With the focus and dedication of a powerful woman who will – under absolutely no circumstances – send that fucking text. Love is an addiction, my friends, and I have no willpower.

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