The realisation dawns. I may as well have a grey duvet. Grey pants, grey bra for that matter - no one's going to see them. Maybe no one will ever see me naked again - and that's no bad thing for the world.
Maybe I will never have sex again.
I'd struggle nowadays to get anyone to meet me for a coffee, never mind a really steamy fuck. I am an overworked, under-workedout, middle-aged, plain, dull, boring, look-like-I-work-for-the-council mum. Life has put me very firmly in my place, these last few months.
Maybe I'll never hear someone tell me they're in love with me again. I've loved more people than have loved me back, that's for damn sure. I don't think Colin Firth is going to be telling me he loves me just as I am, any time soon.
Like I said, I'm a slow learner.
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