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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Are you on the verge of falling in love? Is there someone you look at who makes you feel dizzy, like you’ve suddenly taken a deep lungful of air at the top of a mountain and you have to look around for a bench or a rock to sit down on in case you topple off? Yeah, don’t fall in love with them. Run the fuck away.

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Places can have a really special resonance in our lives. When I travel around my hometown, I can’t help but remember different locations by the sexy things I used to do there. Sometimes the simple act of visiting a particular place is enough to bring back a flood of memories. And often, just reading about the resonance certain places have for other people is enough to send me off on a mental journey through all the places I once loved and fucked. This week’s guest blog, by Lauren, is a gorgeous story about exactly this, and it made me cry.

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Waterloo station. Bottom of the escalator, going up. Brunette, mid-thirties, backpack full of last-minute Christmas presents. The last time she fucked was yesterday – a quick make-up shag after a week of loneliness. He slipped out of her just as he started to come, and she conjures the memory of the wetness spreading on the inside of her thighs, and tries not to let the other commuters see her smile.

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