Baby, Can I Hold You

Lost

May 7, 2025

dating, poetry

Look, I’m always losing my house keys

Or my car keys

My hand sanitiser

The portable phone charger

That I have two of for this very reason

I used to keep them in my brown boots

The ones I never wear because they pinch my toes just a little bit

That I keep by the shoe rack right by the door

But they could also be in my coat pocket from that day it was really cold in the morning but sweltering by lunchtime

Or the tote bag I hang in my room

That I use when I go charity shopping

Or the handbag I grab as I’m heading out the door

When I’m wearing a dress with no pockets

But still need to take the dog for a walk

I can’t find my bookmark

And I can never find my reading glasses

Or the card that has my national insurance number on it

I don’t know where the email address is for the lady who organises that course I want to take in the autumn

Or the loyalty card with the stamps in it that I take to my hairdressers

So I look in drawers and piles of paperwork

Behind my bedside table

But of all the things I’ve lost lately the things I’m not looking to find again

Are your sarcastic remarks about us trying again

The laughing emojis after it like you’d just said something hilarious

Or the way you said let’s be friends? after we had sex for the first time

I’ve completely lost your friendship after you stopped messaging me October of last year but popped up in my notifications again last week

I want to lose the way I felt when you said I’m fascinating but mental

And in the next breath asked when we can do this again

I’m losing my patience for disrespect

Of me

Of my boundaries

For people who take of me

And don’t give back

So I’ll look in my work bag

Behind that pile of books

Or in the pockets of those jeans I love with the wide legs that swish when I walk

And hope I find something closer to love

Or laughter

And also my house keys

Always those

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Crush and Burn

May 6, 2025

dating

I started messaging someone about a month ago. We both frequent a website that includes an area with forum threads and I’d seen his name around before that. Mostly at the end of a thread where he’d share a very blunt comment that cut through a lot of the bullshit on whatever topic the thread was about. And it was these comments that stuck out for me, they made me laugh mostly. I think there’s something appealing in others that is very opposite to how I am. Overly wordy versus straight to the point.

And I think that’s how my crush started. Another forum thread asked to say something nice about the poster above. And when I clicked on it, the poster above was him. And I said I liked the artsy photos he’d included on his profile. It was nice to see someone that had put some thought and effort into the aesthetic. I appreciate the creativity in others. His lighting was incredible, the angles of his pictures. It felt like a glimpse into his personality, seeing his pictures.

None of these little interactions materialised into anything more. Until they did. He messaged first and I felt like there was something about him. Maybe it was something that I’d created in my head about him? but I remember within the first few messages I’d already shared something deeply personal about myself with him. And it shocked him too. There was real surprise but also, I think, appreciation in the sharing.

And it carried on from there. He was interesting to talk to. Conversation could go deeper, could maintain light and funny. It could veer off into completely random places. And I felt excited every time I saw his name in my Inbox. It felt okay to just bring up other things I was thinking about. And at some point I started thinking …I really like this man. I like the way he thinks, his approach to things. I find that I’m drawn to people with a certain sort of quality to them that manages to balance out my own high emotion. But in a way that made me still feel safe, comfortable. I felt like I told him things I don’t share with everyone. I opened up in a way that I would usually find scary to do. But it didn’t feel scary. It felt natural, it felt easy. And there were times where I pulled away from that feeling, unsure of how to handle that.

And other times I leaned into it. He was an early inspiration for me starting this blog, he was the person that gave me a suggestion for a title for this blog. I liked his open appreciation for certain things about myself. One of my favourite things that he also noticed about me was my talent for storytelling. And I felt like with the smallest encouragement from him, I wanted to do more. To explore it more. To find out where it would take me. And there was something in that for me specifically with him. Like, I liked doing things for him to say complimentary things to me. I liked that he could be really open and say he liked whatever was between us. That he could say really nice things about me just like that. So carefree, without overthinking what it means or what it is. Simple. To the point.

In the end, I got on a train to meet him. He was in the area for work and on the way to meet him I mentioned that I have travel anxiety. I don’t generally hide my anxious brain but I’m also not usually so open about it either. Meeting him took two trains and some walking in an unfamiliar place with my no sense of direction. I remember when I did finally find him, I sat opposite him in a cafe and just put my head in my hands to do some deep, calming breaths. Because I needed it. And I felt okay to do that in front of him.

I thought it would be a really weird thing. To be sitting in front of someone that I’d been talking to online for so long (that I had a massive crush on). To have those conversations face to face without the self editing that can sometimes take place over messaging. That it might be too weird to reconcile the person I’d been getting to know online with the person in front of me with his actual face and smile and hands. Eyes that could see all of me and not just the artfully crafted words that I’d send him. But it felt like only momentary weirdness and then it was gone. And the overwhelming crush on him was still there.

There aren’t that many people that I feel like I can truly be myself with. I don’t think I allow myself that freedom or maybe I don’t feel truly comfortable with that many people. But that day I met him? I felt like the entire day I was able to be authentically me. When after he’d finished his drink he asked if I wanted to see his insane hotel room? I laughed and said that’s the cheesiest pick up line up I’d ever heard but he took me to his hotel room and it was a pretty unique space.

And it felt easy and comfortable to be alone in that room with him too. Talking on his bed as his stroked my leg, the way that he looked at me as I continued to babble away. I told him I was awkward and talking too much even after all of his really great touching and he said something like he wouldn’t like me if I wasn’t me (with all the words) and have I said before how sexy I find acceptance? What I loved about the way he touched me then was that it was so specific. It was exploratory like he was on some voyage of discovery to find out what type of touch I like, the right pressure, the right places to touch. With no sense of being in a rush, like there was nowhere else he’d rather be than there running his hands along my thighs. I couldn’t even begin to describe how much one particular touch, quite firm on my hip did things to me in a way that I’ve never experienced. Together with the kissing. Can you have such a hot experience with both of you fully clothed throughout?

Afterwards, we walked and talked in the sunshine. At some point he took my hand and we held hands as we walked for the rest of the afternoon. And I hadn’t realised how much I had missed that. That I felt like I needed it. To have that sense of physical connection with another person, and not just any person. This person. And he was so great about it. He’d squeeze my hand when I got to a sad part in a story and it felt like, I’m here, it’s okay. It was such a small thing but I felt so emotional about it. And it was just the natural way that he’d reach out his hand as I was speaking and just touch my hand. How are people like that? How is that so easy? I love people that are so free with their physical affection. I could get addicted to it. But it felt like one of those things that just added to the joy of spending time with him. It was lovely day and he was a lovely man.

When we said goodbye at the station, he thanked me as we hugged. Acknowledging, I guess, that it isn’t easy for me with the travel. But in that moment I’d forgotten the panic of that morning. The feeling of being lost. Because the memory had been paved over by the sunshine, by the easy conversation, by great kisses and laughter. And it was all just so nice.

I felt too distracted on the journey home to read my book. I felt buzzed from the day, from all these feelings I hadn’t yet processed, that I didn’t know what to do with. Out of habit, I checked the website we both use. And as I’m clicking around, looking at the normal things I look at I noticed something unusual. I didn’t want to spoil the high of my day but it was one of those things that scratched against things that are Not Okay for me. So I asked him about it.

And it turned out that he’d let someone else in on my privacy. Which opened this door for someone close to him to invade the space he and I had created together in a way that meant that I no longer felt safe. In fact, all of a sudden that space felt spoiled and from this other person, unexpectedly unkind.

So that’s all it will ever be. One great day in the sunshine.

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High Street

May 2, 2025

poetry, relationships

I sometimes take my dog to the high street

My dog that loves me best in the world

That looks at me adoringly

Always happiest pressed against me

And I let a friend hold his dog lead

As I walk away from him

Sometimes slowly

Sometimes quickly

He seems to be okay for the first few steps away from him that I take

His tail still wagging

His happy face open and accepting

His eyes only on me

He does okay when I’m further away but still in sight

But he might pull on his lead

Jump on his hind legs to get a better view of me

It’s when I turn a corner or enter a shop

That the whining starts

The sound of it getting louder

More insistent

As he pulls at his lead

Tries to wriggle out of his harness

So he can run after me

Even if that means running into the street or in harm’s way

The staff in the shops give him sympathetic looks

Offer him sad little smiles

Say to me will he be okay?

Doesn’t he have a connection with you?

And I say hopefully with practice it will get easier being away from each other

And in that moment I am the same as my dog

Needing your attention

Your company

As I watch you walk away from me

I don’t let out a heartbreaking cry or pull against what holds me in place

I just stand silently

Breaking slowly

Or maybe quickly

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Meeting Couples

May 1, 2025

dating

It can be so hard to date people one on one. That’s already plenty complicated enough. But meeting couples on dates? Twice as tricky.

I never considered myself a unicorn. But I have been one. And enjoyed the experiences. (I hope to tell you about them some time!) Dating a couple can be an odd experience.

There can be couples like the one I described in Electric Kisses, where I felt a much stronger connection to one person over the other. But quite often, there’s just no chemistry at all. And that’s mostly been the case for me.

The first couple I met on a date. I’d been chatting to them for weeks but from the overwhelming amount of emojis being used I wrongly assumed that I was talking to her. I found out on our date that I was not. They sent me a collage of pictures of them on their own and together as a couple before our date. They were attractive and interesting and I was excited to meet them.

When I pulled into the pub, they were already seated at a table near a front window and had watched me struggle to park. They both kissed my cheek ‘hello’ and he offered to get my drink. Conversation was stilted at first but settled into more of a rhythm. They talked excessively about their interest in both climbing and visiting sex clubs and their stories about sex and dating were much more extreme than mine. She inadvertently admitted to lying about their ages and incidentally, she looked 10-15 years older than her pictures would indicate. I felt uncomfortable and at the end of the night when he announced he’d like a snog, I immediately felt ‘the ick’ and politely declined.

The second couple I met on a date. They were lovely and warm in their messages. Quite straightforward with the way they expressed their sexual interest in me before we met up. Both ridiculously attractive in person. Engaging in conversation, really interesting. It turned out we had some things in common that hadn’t been touched on in our messaging and this meant that we talked very easily for several hours.

I felt quite energised by this date. It felt like such a victory to be meeting a couple where things flowed very naturally between us. Where I felt an attraction to them both fairly equally. I loved that they both made me laugh, that I could see myself in bed with them as easily as I could see myself spending time with them socially.

So it kind of burst my bubble (and really hurt my feelings!) when after our date I sent them a message saying what a great time I had and to find out when we might meet again with some added kissing perhaps? Their response was to say, didn’t we tell you? We’re only interested in friendship and the social side of things. Oh. So, very different to how you were in your messaging before you met me then. I wish people had more courage to just say outright that they don’t fancy me.

The third couple I met on a date. By this time, I wasn’t feeling very motivated to meet other couples. But this couple was nerdy and loved board games and nerdy board game people are generally my kind of people. So I took a chance on them. And… they were nice. We did not share a similar outlook on board games. Or music. Or books. Or other hobbies. And I don’t need those things. I’m not attracted only to clones of myself. But it felt very much like we were all scrambling around for what to say to each other as every topic was kind of crumbling to pieces.

At one point, he had left something in the pub we were just in and she and I stood in the street waiting. I was not handling the silence well so tried to insert plenty of my trademark babbling to end the silence. But she pretty much just looked at me so intently like she was trying to memorise my features for a quiz that would happen shortly. I didn’t know what to say or do and I felt relieved when he returned and we could carry on with our journey towards the train station.

I tend to say often that I’m not sure how my attraction works but for the most part, I knew that I wasn’t attracted to either of these people. But I was in a spate of not so great dates at this time so I thought ‘maybe I’m wrong’ about the lack of attraction when we finally said our goodbyes and he mentioned a kiss goodnight.

I kissed her first and it was soft and wet and I remembering thinking it was too soft and too wet for my liking. I kissed him next and he pulled me into his body and it felt like too much with one hand in my hair and another at my waist. We said our goodbyes and we never met again.

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When You Know

April 30, 2025

dating

Are you a psycho like me when it comes to dating and communication?

I do this thing sometimes. Okay, quite often. Where I think something is quite obvious, so obvious in fact that I don’t actually say it. But then expectations form and I end up getting hurt over things that we’d never discussed. Let me explain.

I think I heard somewhere that women decide if they want to have sex with a person within a short period of time after meeting someone. I don’t remember what the number is. If it was in seconds or minutes. It was a short period of time in any case. And when I was thinking about writing this post I wondered if maybe in my case I know within that short period of time whether or not I want more from a person than casual.

I have this person in my life, we met almost a year ago now. And I feel like after our first date I was totally into him. I definitely wanted more. And despite the fact that prior to us meeting we’d both stated that dating or a relationship wasn’t where either one of us was at, after we met I started treating him like we were seriously dating. So I’d get upset when he left me on read or he didn’t pay me the appropriate amount of attention.

Eventually after comments were made, we talked about it. I realised that I wasn’t being fair to him. He’d made me no promises, we hadn’t agreed to anything. So I dialled things down and tried to behave more like a normal person with him.

And now it goes in circles with us. With me, really. I’ll be okay for awhile in our casual, we’re not dating situationship. Then it will reach a certain point and I’ll start angsting about what we are. What we aren’t. That I want more. That I want things from him that he has never said or indicated that he’d like with me. And I’ll cry. Or I’ll write poetry about him. I’ll write blog posts about the things I want from him when he doesn’t (or didn’t) have the link to this blog. And I’ll talk about him to my friends who all advise me to move on. But I don’t.

Am I addicted to this destructive cycle? The stupid thing is that I don’t think I’ve ever been that clear with him about any of it. Have I told him recently that I don’t want it to be just sex between us? No. I may have implied it. Have I told him recently that if there was a possibility of more between him and me that I’d stop the dating and having sex with others? Also no.

I honestly feel like I haven’t said those things because I find them too obvious to say. (Or maybe I’m too scared to find out for sure that he absolutely doesn’t want things with me?) How does he not just know how I feel about him? From the amount of time I spend messaging him, from the things I say to him? I’m not a naturally open person, I don’t tend to like being vulnerable with others but I am with him. I want to be vulnerable with him, I want him to see my vulnerability. To see me. I tell him about other dates and other people I’ve had sex with almost to include him in it. To show him that even if others are present, that he’s a priority to me. That I want to share these things with him. But without saying that to him it’s really not obvious to anyone that that is what I’m doing or how I’m feeling.

That felt like a lot of words and paragraphs to say that I’m really shit at communicating the important stuff. God, I really need to do better. But also, I think it’s time that I either say the hard stuff or walk away.

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The First Time

April 29, 2025

dating

The first time I met you I liked you immediately. I had just gotten my haircut that day and it was about half an inch too short. It felt like my hair that short just highlighted how round my face was, I was self conscious about it. But you were quick to say you didn’t think it was too short.

I was wearing that dress that had a deep V neckline. And you were fairly obvious in your interest as you couldn’t tear your eyes away from my cleavage. You even said early on that it was a great dress and that I looked good in it. And I felt good when you said it. I felt good as you looked at me.

I liked you from our messaging. I liked that you understood how (over) emotional I am and responded to it in your typical few words with a bit of humour thrown in. We always had things to talk about and in person, conversation flowed pretty naturally too.

I liked that you brought your dog with you. That we sat at that table with our knees bumping against each other. I don’t remember everything we talked about that night but I do remember you complaining about something. The way your body aches and you can’t do things you used to do when you were younger perhaps. I remember I said ‘are we at that part of that evening where we talk about our failing bodies and how we’re so old?’ and you said with laughter in your eyes ‘Is that not appealing?’ And it absolutely was. So appealing. There was an easiness to the way you could make me laugh.

I remember looking at you thinking I love your face. And your eyes, the shape of your mouth. The way your face went a little red in a blush sometimes. I remember trying to subtly look at your hands, that I liked the shape of you. And I knew I wanted to touch you. I wish I could remember if I touched you that night. My hand on your arm or your thigh. Or if I just thought really hard that I wanted to put my hand there.

Eventually the date had to come to an end. You needed to get your dog home. You walked me back to my car and when I pointed out which car was mine you said ‘oh nice’ in a way that I still don’t understand what you meant. But it’s such a small thing that I would have been embarrassed to ask.

I wondered what a kiss from you would be like all evening. And when it happened, I think I was fairly stunned. It was short, close-mouthed. And all the full body contact that I was hoping for never materialised and as I got in my car I thought ‘that was a very respectful kiss’ … and I thought we need a second kiss. A better one. Luckily we got it.

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Dates Gone Wrong vol. 2

April 28, 2025

sex

What dating does is that it starts to make me question my own ability to judge a person’s character. A person that seems so with it and considerate and really respectful ends up being the worst kind of person. Or at least that’s what happened in this case.

I had met him online. His profile was interesting, engaging. Definitely showed off his personality, that he was funny. Messaging that confirmed that too. And it wasn’t one-sided. He asked me questions, paid attention to the answers. I was feeling really seen in our interactions.

After several weeks of messaging, we decided to meet up for a drink. We decided on this cool space halfway between both of us. I told him that I’d never been before and when I asked him about the parking situation he seemed to understand the underlying anxiety I have about driving new places and specifically for parking. He gave me really detailed instructions on how to get to the place and suggested that we meet at the top story of the car park (where there was more space for me to park!) and he’d walk with me to the place. I wholeheartedly agreed.

And we had a great evening. I thought so at the time. Looking back on it? There was probably a red flag I missed about how much he talked, how much time he spent telling stories. Stories that were long, detailed and told to elicit specific responses. But I thought he was funny and interesting. We kissed in the car park at the end of the evening and it was nice. Maybe didn’t set my world on fire but it was nice. He was nice.

We carried on messaging but hadn’t had a chance to meet again for another few weeks. When I mentioned my birthday was the next week he offered a birthday ‘gift’ in the form of getting a day use hotel to spend the day naked in bed together. It was unusual but I was in a period of time where I was saying ‘yes’ to more things so I said ‘yes’ to this.

And it started well. We talked for ages lying next to each other on the bed. Catching each other up on things going on in our lives. When things led into sex, he asked me about my boundaries. What things do I like, what do I not like. What can’t be done, what should absolutely happen. And while it felt a little clinical and unsexy, I at least liked the intent.

And things were nice the first time. I felt we both really enjoyed each other. Then as we laid next to each other catching our breath, he started talking. And he did not stop talking for the next four hours. No exaggeration there. Four hours. And while some of that talking was interesting and funny, some of it was concerning.

There was a lot of complaining that at first sounded humorous and lighthearted. About his manager, his friends’ partners, his colleagues. But the accumulation of complaints felt overwhelming after awhile. And a lot of it was Not Good. Especially when it got into talking about his ex, the mother of his child. That he’s had a tumultuous relationship with, apparently. That also included his convicted assault against her. That he mentioned so casually in conversation. Like, no big deal. He even admitted it. That he’d done it, that he’d felt justified in it. That he’d do it again.

I’ve felt unsafe with men before. But I felt unsafe in this moment so much more than I had before. Being naked. Being in a hotel room with him. Not knowing what to say, how to react. How I could (safely) extract myself from this situation. In the end, timing and a bit of a medical mishap saved the day. Not only did we need to checkout by a certain time but he had a flareup of a medical issue that meant that we both needed to get dressed and go.

So I did. And I never saw him again. I blocked his number and I hope to never feel so unsafe again.

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Dear Person I Just Had Sex With,

April 25, 2025

dating, sex

Ugh. I can’t believe I fell for your bullshit. You talked a good game about wanting friendship, suggesting doing datey things. But literally hours after you pulled out of me you send a text asking to just be friends? What a d-bag.

I don’t for a minute think that’s a coincidence. Your whole aim was to get a leg over and once you got that? Moved on.

I took it fairly personally at first. I asked myself what is it about me that this happened? But it’s not me, is it? It says so much more about you than it does about me.

And you wanting to ‘commit to something wholesome’ in your future dating actually makes my skin crawl now. The fact that you look down on the women you have sex with and wouldn’t consider those people potential relationship material fills me with so much regret.

Treat women better. And just generally do better.

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Touch

April 24, 2025

poetry, sex

Your hand gently stroking my thigh

Talking on your sofa about birds

Our knees touching

As my heart beat faster wondering how long this part would last

The not knowing

The wanting of more

The way your lips finally touched mine

Tentatively at first then hungrily

Your hardness pressed against the center of me in that way that made me gasp and hold you closer

Later, naked

The clash of our bodies together

The way you teased my nipple

And licked my neck

My hands on your back

My legs circling you

Pulling you, wanting you deep inside me

The way I touched your face and asked if you were okay after

As you smiled

And how my body sought out yours

A long cuddle in the comedown

Laughing about who even remembers what

Your hand finding my thigh again

A few hours later you send a message asking to just be friends

And all that touch feels like regret

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Wedding Guest

April 17, 2025

sex

Have you ever been so bored with your life that you invite trouble into it?

Towards the end of my marriage when I knew things were over I found myself making choices that probably weren’t great for me. But because I’d already mentally given up, I was sucked into that exhilarating feeling of freedom. Of choices, of possibility. It was intoxicating and I started to seek it out.

I ended up online looking for places where I could talk to people about sex, or fantasies, where people were more open about desire. Naturally, places like that end up being fairly gross with some very questionable people but I feel like as it quite often happens, I end up attracting the right sort of people to me. And that’s how it happened. Where I met him.

This man was pure sex. And sex appeal. He had plenty of interesting things to talk about, he was really engaging and charming. Funny. But the sexiest thing about him was how he saw me. He paid attention and nothing turns me on more. He was also just so clear about his intentions towards me. I lean towards needing reassurance but it was never needed with him. He told me all the time what he thought about me, what he wanted to do together. He was so open about sex that it had me exploring different sexual interests with him and he was so accepting of me as a person. All of me.

I’d say things like I had a dream in which I was having sex with a man. And when I thought about the dream afterward I’d think about the dream as me, as a woman, feeling the pleasure of having sex. Sometimes, I’d think about the dream but would pull away and watch as though out of my body and it was sexy to watch this couple. And then, sometimes I was the man. And at this time I wasn’t that comfortable with my own sexuality, with my own pleasure, with watching, with the idea of playing with sexual norms. But his acceptance of it, the way he found it sexy that I was exploring this made me accept it too.

He was also just really honest with me. It wasn’t a natural thing for him to open up and answer my endless questions about things he would have never considered or given any thought to normally but he did. For me. We talked about infidelity, what it felt like when he met someone new, the rush of new person energy. The way his job made him feel and how meeting women helped ease something in him that was created by his stressful, uncertain job. The way he opened up to me was such an aphrodisiac. I love the closeness it brings, the intimacy of sharing yourself with another person.

At the time all this was going on, I was working as a retail manager in a busy shop in a new shopping centre. He lived maybe 30 minutes away from me and on his off days he’d message me all the time, even during work. I’d be busy unpacking a big delivery, check my phone and find 11 messages from his describing a fantasy he’d just had about me. Or he’d follow up with more thoughts on something I’d asked him previously. And all of the messaging while at work would get into my brain and I ended up having all of these racing thoughts.

I’d start to imagine what it would be like if he decided to go further afield to a shopping centre to pick up some things and maybe it would be the shopping centre I worked in. Maybe he’d walk into my shop. Maybe he’d pass me as I went out on my lunch break, maybe we’d be in the same queue line in Boots. Whenever I went out on my breaks at work I’d have this thought in my head. Any one of these people could be him. And I’d feel this almost constant tension, this need for him.

I also can’t stress enough how much this man was into me. He would tell me all the time how much he thought how my brain worked was incredibly sexy or how he loved seeing me grow in sexual confidence. And he’d follow it up by saying let’s meet. It can be us talking about anything or everything but let it also be me straddling his cock. His sexual energy was in everything he said but not in a creepy way. It felt like us having sex was just a natural extension of our connection in other ways.

But I’d always say to him, I don’t know, I don’t if I can meet him.

Because I was still married. Even though I was already preparing my exit strategy, even though I knew in my heart that it was over but I still felt something about my marriage. About loyalty and commitment to my (now) ex. I felt like I was okay at that time about things happening online. Flirting online wasn’t cheating, was it? Completely ignoring that sharing so much with this man about sex, fantasies and desires was so much more than ‘flirting’. But once it got into meeting people face to face that’s when I started to think, how can that ever be justified? So he kept asking and I kept saying no. (I didn’t always say ‘no’ but that’s a story for another time.)

And that’s how this fantasy built. It started off as a dream but when I woke up I added to it, filled it in more.

I’m at a wedding reception and it’s in one of those fancy estate houses, with a really large house and massive beautiful gardens that are well maintained. I’m in a pretty dress and heels, I’ve come to this wedding on my own and I’m talking to a group of people I know reasonably well but aren’t particularly close with. We’re in the gardens and it’s a gorgeous summer day with the sun out. I remember the feel of the fabric of my dress, that I feel good in this dress, I like the shape of it, the colour of it.

I am laughing and smiling with the group I’m with and over the shoulder of the person I’m talking to, I see him. I’m with the bride’s group of friends, but I can see that he’s clustered with a group of friends that know the groom, all wearing suits, ties having been abandoned, their shirts unbuttoned and more relaxed. But he’s not paying attention to the people he’s with, he’s looking at me. Only me. And with this intensity in his gaze.

I stop laughing abruptly when I see him from the shock of it. How can he be here? But I quickly go back to the conversation I’m having, afraid that someone else will notice and ask how I know this man who keeps staring at me, why he has such an effect on me.

I do my best to engage in conversation but I turn slightly so I can keep him in my sights, even now as my heartbeat is racing I don’t want to turn away from him. When he starts moving towards me with purpose in his steps, I catch his eye and sort of shake my head like don’t do this. And I hope he can see the panic in my eyes.

But he’s still walking towards me, so I make my excuses to my friends and say I need another drink and move away. And I can see him sometimes as I move from place to place. He stops when others call his name but he’s still making his way towards me. So I decide to leave. I go into the fancy building and make like I’ve gone out the front door but I actually circle back round and come back in from a side door. And I race up one of the sets of stairs to this room that’s been turned into a coat room with racks along one side of the room and piles of coats on the bed, a few suitcases in the corner from wedding guests. And I quickly find my coat and I turn to the door to leave but he’s standing just inside the room.

And he just says my name really quietly. Just my name.

And that’s when I launch into my rambling, all the words are coming out of me and I’m saying we can’t do this, I’m married and he’s married and it would be wrong and it’s our friend’s wedding anyway and that should be the focus which is why I should just leave, I have everything to just go right now anyway and as I’m talking he’s been moving more towards the centre of the room, closer to me. And I try to just dart past him and through the open door but he reaches out and he touches my arm very lightly.

And as soon as he touches me my words stop and I just stand there looking at his hand on my arm and I feel like until that moment I haven’t really looked at him, not properly. His height makes me tremble but so does he in his shirt, looking like he looked really put together once but now his hair falls over his beautiful blue eyes and he’s rolled his sleeves up with bare forearms and I look up and he’s even closer than I imagined, the heat of him. That fucking intense look of his. His hand on me is light but I feel like I can’t move anyway. He’s pinned me with that look.

And I start to say something else halfheartedly and he says something like shhh and at once he’s pulling me closer to him and also does something with the door like he’s kicked it shut with his leg. And he spins us both and I’m pressed against the door and he’s now got both my wrists held together in his hand and they’re over my head and he leans in and everything fades to black.

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