“By writing this, knowing  that there was a chance he'd read it, i was up to my old tricks. Was I not sending an open letter hoping for some kind of response, in return?”

“I want to build you a house with my bare hands and carry you over the threshold. I want too cook for you every evening and bring you tea in bed in the mornings. I want to read with you in front of an open fire, sipping a glass of wine. I want to drive you to the beach and lie next to you in the sun. I may not be a man of means, bit I want to take care of you as best I can.”

“I couldn't remember the last time I'd felt so wrapped up in someone that I saw only him, caring not a jot what onlookers might think. I ached with nostalgia for a younger, more responsive me, who seemed to feel things more intensely.”

“I choose my outfit, my undergarments with care, because I know from experience that a drink, with him, will lead to much, much more. In the bar, I bask in his attention, happy in this moment, knowing full well it will be fleeting. I lie in bed, his sleeping body curled around mine, his arm around my waist, marvelling that someone can be so close, skin against mine, but simultaneously seem so remote, so inaccessible.When we part the next day and I hear the words I fully expect to hear - 'well, I guess I'll see you when I get back' - i feel a twinge of something I was determined not to feel. A brief pang of remorse that I may have been selling little pieces of myself to the lowest bidder.”

“I tumbled into the taxi alone, closing the door closed with a dull thud before I could possibly change my mind. Not like this, I remember thinking. Whatever this thing is between us, it could only be tainted and cheapened by a semi-drunken encounter on the night of our first meeting. As the car pulled away I stared back at him. The thought that I might never see him again, that I might never know what it would feel like to be kissed by him, seemed unbearably cruel.At a crossroads, I had been faced with a choice: two possible versions of my future mapped out ahead of me. But I didn't feel like I had made any sort of decision. All I had done was run away.”

“I think I'd convinced myself that all long-term relationships end up that way; I really thought I had no right to expect more.”

“I realised I was tiring of our games, fed up with trying to second guess his motives, weary of trying to hold myself aloof so that I wouldn't lose face.”