The last couple of times I had sex, I cried afterwards. I know, this blog post sounds like it’s going to be a little bit horrible: it is. Sorry about that. Sometimes life is full of hot fucking and joyful blow jobs, and sometimes… well, sometimes it is stress and panic and crying after sex.

(more…)

Sometimes the best compliments are the ones you least expect. Mine came out of the blue about 4:30 on a rainy Saturday afternoon, while we were having a massive argument. Well, not exactly. We were fuming in the silent aftermath of a massive argument – each getting on with our own thing and wondering if we could pull this shit together before the evening began and we realised we wanted to be friends again.

(more…)

“I gave in around six in the morning, and came all over my stomach thinking about fucking you bent over the bed and digging my fingernails into your tits.”

(more…)

I miss you. Every morning when I wake up and see you there, I miss you. I miss you while we’re exchanging emails about the minutiae of our lives. I miss you when we sit together on the sofa, our eyes locked on the telly, to keep each other out.

I miss you when we fight.

(more…)

I am often told that ‘offence is not given, it’s taken’, as if offence can only ever matter to the people who feel it. Like it’s a substance magicked out of thin air whenever someone is being thin-skinned. The ‘offence is not given, it’s taken’ argument is usually rolled out when someone is trying to make the person who is criticising them look petty or dramatic. But in my experience offence is rarely taken: it is assigned.

(more…)