Maybe the earth will continue to spin, and the stars won’t implode for a bazillion more years, but I know, with a certainty my stupid brain has done its best to ignore, that this moment – right here, with the people I love most – is not going to last.

I guess some people enter your orbit and get stuck, and there’s nothing either of you can do about it.

I guess it’s easy to dream about things that are abstract, or impossible.

The angst about doing is more terrifying than the actual leap.

I’m operating on Tiny Teddies and hope.

But I’ve been kidding myself that this thing I feel for her is just a crush. No matter what I’d heard or read or seen in a movie – no one ever said it was supposed to suck so badly.

I am tired of hiding in my own shadow. I am tired of pushing aside the things that make me me, for some shinier version of myself that ticks everyone else’s boxes.

Dude, innapropriate. Don’t talk about your friend’s Dad’s junk.

It feels just right that he’s here, one of the pages ripped from my story, slotted back exactly where it’s supposed to be.

No-one knows anything. Anyone who tells you they do... is full of bollocks.