"I can show her the ropes (ish) and then set her free – like some kind of sexy, selfless, lesbian Jesus."
"She sends me a text one night, late, liquored: 'I want to lick your face.'"
"Coming up the escalator at Oxford Circus, with its walls daubed in rainbows, I had to choke down tears of joy."
"If we’re out and there’s an attractive woman in the room, I can feel her eyes slipping and sliding over her."
"Sex with an ex is pretty much always a bad idea: before you know it your heart is trotting happily after your nether."
"Are her lingering looks a sign of Sapphic tendencies or have I misplaced my gaydar in outer Mongolia?"
"Even if you think you’re doing the right thing, the sudden shock of losing an intimacy you’d come to rely on is tough."
"I want her so much I ignore the worries squiggling through my brain like strands of spaghetti."
"My flat has become a creepy homage to other people’s nuptials: you can’t swing a cat without knocking over a wedding invite."
"I could have scooped the best actress, best sound effects and best visual effects Oscars without breaking a sweat (literally)."