Friday, 5 July 2013

The truth

"No one's center is like someone else's. Find your own center, not the center of your neighbor; not the center of your father or mother or family or ancestor but that center which is yours and yours alone."

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Friday, 28 June 2013

My first spanking party

Sometimes I love where I live. I find two skirts in a renowned local charity shop. £2.99 each. I say a silent "hooray" for the patronizing woman in the vintage shop who wouldn't drop the price of a navy wool pencil skirt from £45 to £40 (honestly). To think I'd nearly spent £40 when I got two skirts for £5.98.

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Thursday, 27 June 2013

Therapy is good

Deirdre kicks my head back into shape. 

It was such a mistake cancelling my appointment with Deirdre my therapist last week. I might have avoided days of tears and grief. Perhaps not quite, as grief is something you have to go for, but there's healthy grief and unhealthy grief.

It had been feeling as though something had died. Really, it was that bad. Sitting in a flood of tears in her consulting room, I manage to get out: "It's like the whole time I was with Virgil I was clinging on to him as though he was a rock in a black, stormy sea. I hadn't been feeling right or good about myself and what I was doing with my life for years. I hoped he would be my saviour from myself, my darkness."

I think of an old painting I once saw of shipwrecked sinners saved by Jesus as they clung to the rocks.

Deirdre has a more tropical picture in her head but it's a good one. She says: "So, it's like you're a castaway on a tiny desert island. You've got just enough to stay alive although you're sick of having the shits from drinking coconut milk and only having fish to eat.

"You have to choose between staying on the island, where you're not happy, or striking out into the water. You don't know what will happen to you. Will you find land, or a ship, that takes you to another island, and then to the mainland and then to a city and an airport and finally a plane that will bring you home?"

Loving the analogy, I moan and laugh at the same time: "But the island looks so safe after I've left it. I miss it! And despite our differences Virgil and I had this really beautiful love..."

 Then Deirdre says: "Harlot, I hope you know I have nothing but respect for the love between you and Virgil, but I also know that since the first time you came to see me you were expressing severe dissatisfaction and resentment about your relationship. Neither of you can be right while you're in a boyfriend–girlfriend relationship with each other - it puts you both in a situation where to be true to yourselves you are not able to satisfy each other."

And she's right. She's so fucking right. Everyone, I mean everyone, needs a therapist like Deirdre.
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Monday, 24 June 2013

Should have known better

Virgil and I have an excruciating breakfast, and I can't decide what to do.

I say: "I feel like shaking you, shaking some sense into you."
Virgil smiles slightly, and I return it.
"Sense as I see it, at least," I finish.
"We had a really good love. There were good things. It's such a waste. It's crazy not to at least try to fix things."

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Sunday, 23 June 2013

Weddings and couples

Virgil and I see old friends and play the couple for a day. Afterwards I feel sad.

Virgil and I spent yesterday impersonating a couple at a wedding. Actually it was a first anniversary party thrown by the parents of some friends of ours who married secretly with only friends present on holiday last year. If they had hoped to escape the drama of a family wedding (I don't think this was their motive but...) they failed.

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Thursday, 20 June 2013

This and that

PMT nearly does for me, and so does thrush, but I'm still alive and thinking about next week. 

Well, sort of revised my expectations downward...

The emotional turbulence of the last few days, in which I feel as though I have regressed, is levelling out. I am certain one reason for this is the arrival of my period. Today I'm achey and exhausted but emotionally I feel better, less full of anguish about losing Virgil, more objective in the way I think about him and me.

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Monday, 17 June 2013

Social media explanation

This is an update on last night's post.

Hurray for not blowing my top last night. I texted Virgil:
"I've unfollowed you on Twitter after I clicked on your page and saw a private message between you and Sarah that I found very hard to see. I think that if you use Twitter in that way it's better we don't follow each other. It's too painful."

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Sunday, 16 June 2013

Social media blunder


In a non-sex related project I recently set up a Twitter account and Tumblr. Twitter is something I haven't much experience of. There was the experience of spying on Sarah Smith on Twitter once, which was quite weird, and I haven't really used it since.

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Slip sliding

Things feel like they're going backwards. I indulge in some wallowing.

It's supposed to be getting easier, but the last few days are a relapse into the tears and hopelessness of the first weeks post-Virgil. I miss him. I think of the good things: our conversations, collaborations and the tenderness that made us appear so affectionate and solid in our love. I have to remind myself about our frustrating sex life, his unwillingness to compromise and my jealousy about Sarah.

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Saturday, 15 June 2013

Other people's feelings

I experience a new side to nonmonogamy and play the long game.

A recent first date inspired some interesting texts and a sense that something else might come of it. Not a big new romance, but the potential for sex and good company, pleasurable time spent getting to know someone. Damien is a grown-up but a fun one, not a geek but (on first impressions) a well-rounded, sociable, amicable man. He's an OkCupid connection and I liked the letter he wrote me and his profile so much that I went for it, even though I wasn't entirely sold on his pictures.

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Friday, 14 June 2013

Aloneness and togetherness

Sometimes you read something and the truth of the idea and its relevance to you sings out. It's a moment of epiphany and clarity.
"Knowing how to be solitary is central to the art of loving. When we can be alone, we can be with others without using them as a means of escape." – bell hooks

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Tuesday, 11 June 2013

Cabin fever and inertia

Working from home. Ach. Exams in two weeks. I revise on the sofa and fall asleep in the afternoons. I am sad and lack motivation. Everything feels like too much trouble. Seriously. You don't know what it took to type this. I miss Virgil like a mad thing, even though I just spent the evening with him. I have been thinking about how falling in love is not an excuse to give one's power away but that's what I did.
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Monday, 10 June 2013

Too much play, too little sleep

The price of a good time - sleep deprivation and sexual health issues. 

It's Monday morning but all that means is I have revision to do. I could use more structure in my life and more distractions. It's hard to study. Being alone in the flat gives me time to think of Virgil. I miss him like crazy, to the point of picking up the phone, but I don't reach out. What's the point?

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Saturday, 8 June 2013

Shame and non-monogamy

I'm not the only one to get jealous.

Given the bad press non-monogamy usually gets, it's understandable that when it's working folk want the world to wise up. But lately the posts of some poly people I know have seemed unbearably smug.

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Thursday, 6 June 2013

Daydreaming in class

Some facts about spanking, texting makes me horny, and I have to get studying.

Work avoidance is my greatest inspiration, sex my biggest distraction. A few messages from my new texting friend in which he says he is looking forward to getting to know "far more of me, far more deeply" make an afternoon lecture pass in a pleasant haze of groin ache. I catch only four words in every five and absorb almost nothing.

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Wednesday, 5 June 2013

Texts and spanking

Looking for work depresses me, but I have fun with texting and enquire about a new source of income.

Summoning my energy, I write emails to two organisations I think might employ me, or, more likely, give me some volunteering work. I earmark two more to visit.

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Tuesday, 4 June 2013

Gardening and debauchery

A good date, positive thoughts, inaction.

I'm still on gardening leave but things are looking up. My mood is definitely brighter; I cry much less. I miss Virgil but we see each other often as friends. I remember how unhappy I was in our relationship. While I feel sad now, I also feel free of some uncomfortable emotions which, honestly, I had become so used to having they were like oxygen.

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Friday, 31 May 2013

Day 24 PV

I make a decision about the words I use, and realise I need to extract myself from a situation.

When people ask how I am, I now say: "I am as good as can be expected," and "I am coping reasonably well, thanks."

The words bereft, heartbroken, desolate and so on are still there, lurking around, but I use them less and less. They make me cry and as the more positive statements are also true I decided that these are the ones I will stick to.

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Tuesday, 28 May 2013

Day 21 PV

Oh, what am I doing? I failed at being with Virgil, now I think I'm going to fail at being without him. I want my life back, even though I didn't like it.

All the advice articles I read say a clean break and no contact is essential for moving on. My flatmate Ela thinks so too. But if I cut Virgil out of my life, my social life goes with it. And I can't imagine life without Virgil. I just can't. It's an impossibility. It's like imagining life without your right arm, or food.
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Monday, 27 May 2013

Day 20 PV

In which I spoil a date by being horrible and bursting into tears.

I have Sinead O'Connor's Nothing Compares to You on repeat in my head. When that stops it's Thank You For the Days by the Kinks.

I'm missing Virgil. Like Crazy. But I'm not thinking of that song.

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Friday, 24 May 2013

Day 18 PV

In which I think about resentment and know I can't go back.

I'm sad but one thing feels good and right: I don't want to be a jealous, resentful person again.

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Wednesday, 22 May 2013

Day 16 PV

I fret about work and worry horribly about Virgil.

I want to curl up and do nothing except potter in my garden. Unfortunately I have bills to pay. For no stated reason I stop being offered shifts at the scandalous rag. A new person takes over the rota and I (always at the bottom anyway) am no longer on it. When I ask he says there aren't many shifts around but he's working on it (as though shifts are something he produces). I should probably look for other work. Am I capable of looking for other work?

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Tuesday, 21 May 2013

Day 15 PV

A reflection on my first sex party as a single, and how it compared with going in a couple.

I'm keeping busy, so busy that I frequently feel exhausted and want nothing more than to crawl into bed. I fall asleep in inappropriate places - the bus, work, college. One important thing I do is go to a private sex party held in honour of Ava's birthday. Me and Ela go.

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Monday, 20 May 2013

Day 14? PV

In which I reflect on the experience of Jay Jones and move on.

An email comes from Jay in response to one from me in which I raise the possibility of friend sex. He'd love to play with me at parties, he says, but doesn't think sex in private is a "good idea". Too much of a blurring between playtime and dating, too much intimacy, for Jay starts to feel like a relationship. He's being kind and careful. I can feel the work he put in and I am grateful.

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Tuesday, 14 May 2013

Day 7 PV

In which I think about my erotic future, and Virgil and I ask each other for help.

Day 7. Lucky number seven. I've slightly gone off this style of blog post title but I'm going to stick with it for now. I saw my therapist Bee yesterday which was good. I came out of the session remembering my deep dissatisfaction with mine and Virgil's sex life. It's true that it had been going on for ages. It wasn't going to get fixed.

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Monday, 13 May 2013

Day 6 PV

I woke up in Jay's bed this morning. That's a first. My open relationship with Virgil had a no overnights clause because I couldn't bear the idea of him being loving with someone else in the morning. It was always good to wake up with Virgil. The idea that it won't happen again has been bothering me to the extent that I texted Virgil to tell him.

There wasn't actually any sex with Jay yesterday or this morning, not even kissing. There was cuddling and some spooning but he kept it firmly non-sexual. I didn't ask why; I just enjoyed the company. It might have been his hangover and tiredness yesterday or maybe he's being careful of my emotional state. Perhaps he doesn't want to have sex with me anymore, or perhaps he just didn't want to have sex this time. To ask would be to spoil it. I don't care. We talked, ate dinner and curled up on the sofa to watch a film, which I fell asleep in and missed the last train.

It was a bit of an anticlimax of course, as I had been up for sex, but it was nice and I was glad to see Jay. When I told him about Virgil and splitting up I did it in a very sane way, philosophical, hardly tearing up at all. It sounded plausible and sensible and as though I was coping, which I am.

Other people don't replace Virgil though. There's a tide of unreasonable emotion inside. It's a sea of pain. I feel as though my heart has been pulled out.
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Sunday, 12 May 2013

Day 5 PV... and the 301st entry on this blog

I passed a milestone when I posted last time and didn't notice until later. I have now more than 300 posts on this blog. I'm not proud though: more than anything it's a testament to how little I have promoted my writing. It also feels like an awful lot of work: work on my relationship, work about Virgil. Mulling it over, painful musings, angst, expressing stuff and so on. So much energy expended ... well, I've only myself to worry about from now on. It'll do me good.

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Friday, 10 May 2013

Day 4 PV

A face-to-face with Virgil, on my sofa this morning. We've still broken up. I said I still wanted us to have a relationship, although I wasn't sure what sort. Should we try to just open it up completely? I had known for some time that I wasn't happy committing to him fully in our state of uncertainty. He doesn't want to do that. I said I was open to taking a break and coming back in a few months to see if we want to continue. He said he wants me to move on. We agree that we are going to try to be friends and help each other through it. That's about as good as it gets.

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Thursday, 9 May 2013

Day 3 PV

A phonecall with Virgil yesterday, who is in bed in a bad way. We wept and told each other we want to be in each other's lives. We'll have to talk about how this happens but it made me feel a little better. After all, we're best friends as well as true loves. On my date (how on earth did I manage that?) Eli asked if it felt like a phantom limb. I said: "More like a phantom twin."

All my spider senses are searching for Virgil. The hair on the back of my neck is trying to sense him. I feel his absence acutely. Yesterday I had to tell myself, maybe as much as a hundred times:

"I will love again, and it will be as beautiful."

It's my mantra. Sometimes I vary it. "I can love again..." Then my tongue trips over the words and it comes out as nonsense.

Off to college today. Keeping busy. I will write about Eli later if there's time.
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Wednesday, 8 May 2013

Day 2 PV

Strictly speaking, yesterday was day zero. Waking up this morning is hard. I just went through our joint calendar and copied everything I needed into my own. Then I unsubscribed from it. I wonder how long I will be able to not see Virgil for and what we should do in the future. I entertain thoughts that maybe we can be friends. I love him and care about him.

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Tuesday, 7 May 2013

Day 1 PV

Virgil broke up with me this morning. He said he still loved me but he was tired out and couldn't put in the work anymore. It didn't come out of nowhere but I still feel incredibly sad. I didn't want to split up but he was resolute and there's only so much you can say to try to dissuade someone.

So this is now a post-relationship blog, if it survives. When we broke up briefly last year I poured my heart out here but in the last six months I've barely written.

What is the point of blogging? For me right now it's more of a diary that other people might read. If I'm going to write - and I do want to write. My memory is terrible. I've been thinking about writing a memoir recently but any period of my life not covered by a diary is almost lost to me.

So after Virgil left this morning, the first thing I did was eat half of the bowl of porridge I had made before he came over. I lose my appetite when I'm sad and it's important to be able to function. Only half, mind, and then I couldn't eat anymore. I cried a bit and then went around the flat making mental notes of things that need doing. There are cobwebs under the sink in the bathroom. I'll fix that later. Not nice.

I texted my flatmate Ela: "Virgil just broke up with me. Just so you know :("

Then I removed Virgil from my list of favourite contacts in my phone so I will not be reminded of him every time I make a call. Then I hid him from my Facebook news feed so I will not see his posts. I wrote a philosophical status update about having to let go of the old to let good new things in even if it's scary, but I blocked him from seeing that. You have to tread carefully with that sort of thing. We keep our relationship off Fb but have hundreds of friends in common.

A text came back, not from Ella but from Eli, who I have a date with on Wednesday. It's a first date too. Crap! Actually it's a pretty nice text saying he's been there too and am I ok or would I like to postpone?

So I text Eli back and explain that he has almost the same name as my flatmate but that he might as well know, that the break-up is amicable and life goes on. That it's important to do nice things at times like this. We still have a date tomorrow.

Then I sent the manuscript for my book off to some agents.

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Photo courtesy of CreativNooky
Welcome to e[lust] - The only place where the smartest and hottest sex bloggers are featured under one roof every month. Whether you're looking for sex journalism, erotic writing, relationship advice or kinky discussions it'll be here at e[lust]. Want to be included in e[lust] #46? Start with the newly updated rules, come back May 1st to submit something and subscribe to the RSS feed for updates!

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Thursday, 14 March 2013

Pet hate #24

A week post-wheat. I continue to feel more energetic, happier and alert. My stomach is more apple-like than of football proportions. I'd like to say my guts are perfect but they're not. However, my vagina is definitely happier and I haven't used Canesten since I stopped the wheat. I'm not sure it was helping anyway. I think I had irritation rather than a yeast infection. After all, thrush isn't the only thing that can cause genitals to feel bad.

Which reminds me of something I detest: It's that depressing moment when you have to buy a fresh tube of Canesten. The shop assistant (often a young man with fluff on his lip) asks: 'Have you used this before?' because it's in his training. And feeling a hundred years old and smarting from the unfairness of it all, you reply: 'Yes I have, thank you for asking.'

It occurs to me that there is so much about sex that isn't sexy, but I digress.

Now that my vagina is feeling better I am thinking about having sex again. I'm also thinking about taking a well-deserved break and some responsible hedonism. Since the beginning of this year I have taken good care of my body. The strongest stimulant in my repertoire is coffee and I can't remember when I was last awake past 1am.

A small voice warns me about undoing all the good I have done, but I sense it is soon to be overruled by the rest of me.

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Saturday, 9 March 2013

Wheat poisoning

I've got brain fog. Brain fog is what it sounds like and I'm blaming it on my new intolerance, sensitivity or allergy (whatever you want to call it) to wheat. It explains why I can hardly think, barely construct a sentence and why even getting out of bed this week has seemed like a huge pain. I'm also in a terrible mood. People annoy me even more than usual and that's saying something.

Can this all really be wheat? Apparently it can. Symptoms of wheat allergy include exhaustion, bloating, mood swings (check, check, check) and even itchy eyes (check!). Ok, thrush is not up there at the top of the list but I know from past experience that there's a connection. Now I just have to stop eating wheat (check - day two already) and sit it out.

I'm relieved to have a reason. In fact, my mood must have improved slightly because I write to Jay in a warm, news-y way and decide not to worry too much about it. I think it'll be fine.
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Friday, 8 March 2013


The after-effects of seeing Jay are like a comedown from drugs. Just after I see him I think about him all the time, can't wait to see him again, wank alot and things like that. There's a half-life to this effect. Now, more than two weeks since our last date was cut short by his annoying flatmate I'm not feeling much.

This is a lot to do with his lack of communication. I tell myself that I shouldn't analyse this in his absence. He's not a great letter writer... texter, Facebooker etc. Not knowing Jay very well I don't feel confident enough to say that he finds writing difficult. Perhaps he just doesn't have much to say.

I wish Jay did have more to say though. What I'd really like is a text or picture message every few days, a token to show that he's thinking of me even while having fun and being busy away. I wish I could take back my wasted thoughts. Other than daydream about Jay, the only thing I've done lots of these last weeks is to read Game of Thrones - itself no more than a form of extreme escapism as I have already seen the television series.

The message that finally came went along the lines of:
Hello, how are you? I've been having a great holiday :) Now something I already told you twice already. Now something that shows I have not read your message properly. I'm going to be away a bit longer than I thought  :( I'll call you when I'm back in town. x
It's not awful. I can see that. It could be worse. We didn't have an agreement that he would write/call/text me x number of times, and it's not like we're boyfriend-girlfriend. But I would have liked something a bit more heartfelt than a sad face, an indication that he is impatient to see me too. Why can't we set a date to meet before he gets back to the city? 

Which is why I haven't replied yet. Anything I wrote now would be querulous and passive aggressive. I hate that. I also like the idea of keeping him waiting, as he kept me waiting. I hope he's checking his inbox more often than usual and wondering why I haven't written back yet.

Instead I complain to Virgil. I tell him that while Jay doesn't tick some important boxes he still has some major attractions and I feel emotionally involved. I also admit to being invested in it working because I need something like this. (Or at least, have felt emotionally involved and now feel like blowing it off.) That's called not having a shopping list, says Virgil. I say not trying to make someone meet all your needs is a nice thing about open relationships. Virgil comforts me and points out how nice it is that I can come to him for support in this way.

I say, 'Well, to a point, but the truth is that in an open relationship there just isn't the same degree of support. You might be supporting me now but tonight you're going on a date with Sarah and I feel rubbish about that. And I've utterly fucking had it with not having sex, not going out, not drinking and not eating sugar.'

Unfortunately with all this uncertainty and angst I have regressed in the jealousy stakes. I feel like punching Sarah in her peanut face now. Like really punching so that her head flies back and she says 'Oof'. Then I think about how upsetting that would be for her and the urge subsides a bit but not entirely.

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I am disillusioned and down. A long-awaited message from Jay is disappointing in its brevity and lack of... something. I haven't written back yet although it's been three days. I feel too depressed. I've got a yeast infection that I can't shift and have been diagnosed with a wheat allergy. Ho hum. More stuff I can't have. At least giving up wheat might help the infection.

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Wednesday, 6 March 2013

Equivocal about HIV

I had a bit of an HIV scare last year. This is what happened: Virgil and I went along to the local STD clinic for a regular check-up. Two weeks later I started to think about calling up for the results, but then a man called Nigel from the clinic phoned.

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Monday, 4 March 2013

A productive morning

This is what got me out of bed this morning... tearing off the sheets before the mattress got totally soaked, but not before I took a picture:

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Friday, 1 March 2013

Lateness and discretion

If only one could be honest about these things. "I'm sorry I'm 20 minutes late," I would say, arriving for a shift at the scandalous rag: "I was masturbating. I just couldn't leave the house until I'd had two orgasms, and then I was ruined for about five minutes."

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Wednesday, 27 February 2013

Missing someone

In the end I decide to hide Oliver the dom from my Facebook feed. This is mostly on the advice of Virgil who says I should maintain face. I decide not to write to him either.

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Sunday, 24 February 2013

The keys to the toybox

I meet Amanda for dinner. We haven't seen each other alone for ages. When she asks why I'm not having my usual strawberry milkshake I explain that I'm off sugar for sexual health reasons. I order a cheeseburger, make a face and say that I've been getting infections.

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Saturday, 23 February 2013

I do not understand some people

I don't think I have the emotional resources for another lover but I want to have more sex. I already have a long-term partner in Virgil. And there is the exciting and preoccupying, as yet undefined, new connection with Jay. The idea of meaningless sex makes me nervous. More romantic entanglement would be exhausting: I'm barely coping with the new things I'm feeling. And I would still like some kink in my life.

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Friday, 22 February 2013

Hungry days

I feel insatiable. How is it possible that in the prime of my life I cannot get enough sex? I have an open relationship and a wide circle of pervy and broadminded acquaintance. Surely I should have it worked out by now. I wonder if I am too desperate. Virgil's granny told him once that 'they can smell it on you'.

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Tuesday, 19 February 2013

Back Again

This blog hasn't finished yet although I haven't been in the mood for writing for many months. Recently I've realised it is not good enough. My blog is not going to be a settler story, one of those journey journals which peter out just when things get interesting.

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