This post, by sex blogger Molly Moore, originally appeared on her site. 

I am going to haunt you when I am gone. You will never be free of me, I can promise you that. I will find a way back here, to this town, to this house, to this room, to you. I will sit with you here, day in and day out and watch you mourn me. I will haunt you when I am gone.

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If you want to be in a relationship with someone, and you’re keen on the idea of monogamy, my advice for you is to fill your life. Fill it with people who aren’t that other person. Add friends, and hobbies, and Netflix box sets that you greedily devour on your own. Try holidaying on your own, or walking on your own, or going to the pub with a good book for a quick pint on your own. Try having conversations with strangers on the internet about things that interest and excite you. Fill your fucking life.

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He breezes into the kitchen, grins at me in a self-satisfied way and proudly tells me “look!” before whipping out his cock. And I think ‘Ahh… my muse.’ My beloved muse. My weird, nerdy, playful, dodgy, nervous wreck of a muse.

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Have you ever met someone for whom you’d do almost anything? This is a story about a guy like that, and a thing he asked me to do. As with so many unusual and horny things from my past, I’d completely forgotten about this incident until I was reminded of it by a tweet. It’s about piss, and love, and that foolishness you catch when you’re irrationally hot for someone.

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Would we be more gentle with each other’s hearts if we knew how much it hurt when they get broken? I mean ‘hurt’ in a literal physical sense here. I used to think heartbreak was a universal physical sensation – one we all experienced in the same way. But recently I’ve discovered that heartbreak feels like different things to different people.

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