I walked into my apartment, dropping my bag on the bed and just sat down, finally home and released from hospital. Well, kinda released. I was now an outpatient and had to return every Monday, Wednesday and Friday for tests and measurements, but now I can sleep in my own bed. I looked about the room, wondering about my future and what I will do from now on, but in the meantime, I had a weekend to relax and do very little.

In the kitchen my solicitor had left a few of the things that I asked him to pick up, (cigarettes, some beer and some wine), and I half heartedly look through them, moving things about and the beer into the fridge, noticing the lack of food in there and making that my priority for today. Getting home from picking up some ready cooked meals, I decided to run a bath, and just chill, I mean, I literally have nothing to do, and while I wait for my name change to go through I have no ID to get me in anywhere or buy anything fun. I’m not even sure I would be able to get into the cinema to see some films, so relaxing is a good thing to do.

As I lay there in the bath, I thought back on my decision to change my name from Lew, short for Lewis, to Louise and feeling more comfortable with it each day, it’s not like I need to change anything for anyone else other than my ID. Over the last 25 years while building up my old business I slowly lost touch with my friends as I was just too busy to maintain them. Then it was just business acquaintances I went drinking with or played golf with, even though I hate it, it was good for contacts. Then there was Sarah of course, introduced to her by an old PA as a blind date, and she became the focus of my life. She’s happy I’m home now, but she’s in London and we’re not together, so not really around to spend time with me. Getting out the bath at risk of becoming a prune, I just sat around the rest of the day, watching TV or streaming something, not really paying attention, just happy to be crashed out on my sofa while doing it.

The next week was a lot of nothing, even the hospital visits felt like repeats of every other day while there, and Annette said she was a bit worried about me. I pointed out it’s not like I can do much while I’m constantly back at hospital for appointments each week, and she told me I needed to at least get out of the house a bit. So that’s what I did, twice a week I made sure I went for a walk, looking in the shops, and just being out and having a coffee sometimes. I’m not sure when I noticed it, but I became aware of how men were looking at me, and one day I was walking through an area I had walked through before and I felt extremely unsafe. I had never felt this way as a man, but I felt vulnerable and small. I mean, I am smaller than I was, but still, I felt very nervous. From then on I always considered where I walked, but I was always aware of how men looked at me, worried that I ever did that in the past. I probably did and made a mental apology to every woman in the world.

On the third week at home, I had a laundry crisis. No more clean leggings to wear and I couldn't face going for a walk in a dress, so I pulled out the denim skirt I had brought and put that on along with a jumper I had picked up. Looking at myself in the mirror I was quite happy with the look, turning each way to look at myself and mentally shaking the image from my head. I had looked to see how I looked in it, not really sure what I was going to do if I wasn’t happy with it.

I said to myself, “Fuck it, you’re Lou not Lew now, live with it.”

And before I bottled it I picked up a bag and walked out the door.

I had no plan on where to go, but found myself walking down the main streets towards town, guessing I was going to go looking in the shops. Well, I’m not sure how it happened, I’m really not as it wasn’t my intention, but somehow I replaced my old shoulder bag that I used to use to carry my stuff in to work, and ended up with not only a smallish handbag, but also one off those ones you can wear as a backpack. I of course moved everything into that as why carry three bags when I can carry one, but I also went shopping and picked up a pair of shoes and some boots, one of which had heels. We’re not talking four inch ones, but they had heels, cone or tapered shaped I guess that were two inches and the boots were flats, but came above my knees. I was quite taken by the boots as while it wasn’t cold, it wasn’t warm either so I detoured to the toilets to change into them.

After that I felt if not warmer in reality, I mean the skirt is quite short, I at least felt a bit more covered up from some of the looks I got from creepy guys. Well, there was one guy who looked that I didn’t mind looking and I smiled at him, but when he walked towards me I got scared and walked into a department store to avoid him.

And then I got a surprise when a voice said, “Hi, would you like a makeover?”

I stopped dead, I had no idea what a makeover is, I mean, I know that women get them but what about me? I said, “Um, I’m not sure. What does it involve?”

She gave me a smile and said, “Do your parents not let you wear make up? I wouldn't want to get you in trouble.”

Great, she thinks I’m a kid! But then again, I keep forgetting that sometimes I look young and without a mirror nearby to get a feel on how I looked right now and not wanting to embarrass her so said, “Oh, no, I am allowed, I’ve just never had one before.”

She invited me to sit down and I had my first lesson in how to put make up on, pretending I knew what some of the terms were that she said and getting a few of the things she recommended, followed by some of the things I would need to put it on with and of course remove it. Walking home I won’t say I felt better, but I definitely felt a lot more confident in myself.

I thought to myself I hope I can find some tutorials on YouTube to help me. Of course when I looked I said to myself, ‘Oh you poor sweet summer child!’

The next day at the hospital and after my measurements and various tests, Annette commented that I was wearing some eyeliner and I told her all about what happened, including the looks from creepy men.

She said, “Well, you’re a woman now, and sadly I have to tell you that while you need to get used to it, I hope you will never stop being angry about it.”

I said, “You’re telling me, sister!”

And we looked at each other and started giggling.

We talked a lot about my boredom, not surprising really as I never expected to have nothing to do other than be myself, but she said I just need to put myself out there, ‘But please, if you really put yourself out there, then use protection!’

Once again I apologised for my previous stupidity, but telling her I don’t know if I’m ready to do that again. She looked at me for a while and said, “Why not?”

I had no immediate answer, promising to think about it. And that’s what I did while having a coffee in the high street later and a guy was looking at me from the other side of the shop, not too ugly, a little shy maybe, mid twenties I guess. I was trying to look at my reflection in the window to work out how old I looked to him in my leggings and jumper, but he really gave me the time to think about men. I was still a little hurt about not seeing hot teacher again and I think I was maybe getting over him, which made me wonder, should I get under some other guys like the shy guy?

But how can I do that, it’s not like I can go out to the pub easily enough on dates with no ID and looking like I do? I what about guys near my physical age? What doe the law say about this, I mean, physically I’m under 16, mentally I’m well over it, so is it morally wrong or ethically wrong to that?

I picked up my phone about to search for ‘how to get over a guy and hook up with others’, guessing it must be in one of the women’s magazines when I stopped and looked at my reflection, mentally face palming myself.

Tinder.

Well, I’m going to need some photos of myself, and girls my physical age are always taking selfies, so that is what I did, sitting there taking quite a few, then signing up for insta to get me started. I need more selfies, so at home I tried on several outfits and posted them, followed by a few depending on what I was wearing when out and about, along with any photos I liked that didn’t include me in them. I did stop myself from taking photos of food.

Over the next week I talked to loads of guys on tinder, matching with anyone that caught my eye in any way, and using an age range of 18-55. I learnt a few things quite quickly. A lot of older guys are clearly delusion when it comes to matching with a younger woman (I put my age as 19 as I didn’t think I could get away with much more), teens boys are dumb and really boring to talk to, but I seem to have a sweet spot of between 25-35 where they are more interesting to talk to. Plus, with teens I was constantly worried about saying the wrong thing and having no idea of their cultural references. I am aware of Taylor Swift, but who the hell are BTS? I was getting bored of having to google almost everything to understand them..

Anyway, I was only interested in talking to them on the app at this point, I had no interest in doing anything else, but having so many conversations on the go at once did make things less boring for me, and it was funny the way that they all tried to make me laugh.

But then something awful happened.

Well, not awful, it just really upset me. I checked my old email account and other than a couple of spam ones, there were three from old acquaintances that even if I hadn’t changed I would have ignored. But there was one other about an event I always make an effort to go to, always make sure my diary was free for a few days each side of it, and now I couldn't see a way that I could go.

It was a reunion for my old army battalion, held every year and one of the few times we ever saw each other. These were guys I would have given my life for and they would have for me, maybe still would, but I just couldn't see it working this time. Just imagine it, “Hi guys, do you think I’ve changed and what do you think of my LBD, I’ve used the regimental tie as a belt?”

I got depressed, looked through old photos from when I served and thought about those no longer with us, the old boys who were great to talk to and how much I would miss being there, wondering what my old section would think when I didn't turn up.

Well, I got depressed and then I got pissed, very pissed. I was stumbling around my apartment cursing my new body and it’s limited ability to handle alcohol until I collapsed on the bed and tried to fall asleep as the room span around me. And then, due to the abnormal fluid intake, I needed the toilet and something happened for the first time since the change. I stood there and pulled down the front of my leggings and reached in to pull out what isn’t there.

I wet myself and stood there crying while it happened.

Once I stopped, and of course stopped feeling sorry for myself I stripped off my leggings and underwear, used them to wipe myself down, cleaned up the mess, dropped them in the laundry basket and cleaned myself up. I’m not sure how I did that, I mean I was fairly drunk, but I was also once a soldier and if there’s one thing a squaddie can do is clean up to avoid getting in trouble. Anyway, I made my way back to bed, lay down and must have fallen asleep.

In the morning I woke up to a banging head. Wait, no, not a banging head, that’s actually not that bad, so what’s going on? Oh, someone is knocking on the door. I sat up, getting my thoughts in order and made my way to open it, finding a man standing outside in overalls and holding a toolbox. He instantly looked away and said, “Sorry miss, are your parents in?”

I said, “What?”

“Your parents, I’m here to do the annual check on the smoke detectors for the building?”

I looked over my shoulder wondering what he was on about and remembered how I look and said, “Oh, no parents, I’m the adult here. Do you want to come in?”

He paused and said, “Are you sure that’s ok?”

I must have looked confused and he waved at me with his arm while looking away and I looked down. Oh. I had a tee shirt on, but of course I had left the bottom half of my clothes in the laundry basket last night. There was no point covering up and a smile crossed my face, I mean, It’s not like I’m not used to being naked around men I’ve never met before.

I told him to do what he needs to do and I went into the kitchen and put the kettle on, asking if he wanted a coffee or some tea as much as I did. He said something, but I got two cups ready and then jumped in the shower to get cleaned up properly.

I walked in to the kitchen five minutes later naked with a towel around my head as he was doing something to the smoke detector and I said, “Is instant coffee ok?”

He looked at me and dropped his screwdriver, so I carried on, “Look, it’s fine, but just to make it clear this isn’t an invite or some terrible porno. I’m just relaxed about being naked.”

Once again he mumbled something, I mean, he must have been around 50, so I walked away and let him get on with what he was doing and left the coffee on the table. Did I bend at the waist when I put it down with my back to him? Well, a lady doesn’t tell, ok, this lady is telling you a lot, but use your imagination for once. Ten minutes later he checked the one on the hallway and I smiled at him, now doing my daily YouTube yoga in the living room, except I don’t normally do it naked.

Turns out, he does yoga too and gave me some advice about the poses, helping me with my posture and he stayed to chat a bit about it. I did lie a bit and say I always do my yoga naked and he suggested a few places I could go to for proper instructions (with clothes on), but it was nice having an adult conversation where even though I was naked there was no hidden subtext of sex or dating.

Right after he left I picked one of the guys on tinder that I’ve been talking to at random and suggested we go for a coffee. Turns out he wasn’t as interesting to talk to in person, but yes, I did go home with him, well, to a hotel as I’m not quite that stupid. I did that few times with a few different guys and other than getting a few looks from some people when my date was, well, older looking than me, it was all good safe fun. But I never saw a guy twice, and started to be a bit selective in how I met them. If they could hold an interesting conversation on tinder or one of the dating/hook up apps, then we went for a coffee. If they couldn’t, I would just arrange a hook up with them instead and get laid.

While it wasn’t much, it was human contact and as Annette said, I was kinda lonely and using them as a source of comfort rather than something more serious. She said, “I have some ideas about that and I’m talking to a couple of people so there’s no point sharing it yet. But I will ask, how would you feel about me trying something to try and help you socialise?”

I shrugged, I mean, she wouldn't tell me what her idea is so I couldn't say yes or no to it, but I was willing to listen to her advice. Anyway, one thing she did tell me is that they were thinking of reducing my examinations to once a week, and my sessions with her to twice a week, and while the idea seeing people who treated me like a human being and pincushion at the same time a lot less, the idea of being more isolated gave me a sense of dread. I did agree to it, I mean, what other choice did I have? They have other patients than me.

It was now approaching the end of May, almost five months since the change and two months after being released form hospital, and I went on a date with a guy I had been chatting to online for about three weeks. He seemed quite nice, could hold a conversation without always trying to be flirty and was decent enough looking. I had my new official name and ID now. My solicitor had managed to convince the passport office and DVLA with a lot of legal letters and letters of support from the hospital that I was really was the same person, sort least I could go to the pub with him.

Instead we went to the cinema and for some reason he picked a horror, probably hoping I would seek his support but I actually find them kind of bring and predictable. We did go for a drink afterwards, and as it was a Saturday and he was nice enough that I went home with him. On the plus side I knew he wasn’t married like some of the guys I hooked up with, I know I should feel guilty but they lied to me and I saw the indent of their hidden rings, so they are the ones who should have felt guilty. Especially as picking a hotel makes it kind of obvious they want to keep me away from their homes, yet somehow never questioning my choice or even asking when I suggest a hotel.

Anyway, the sex was ok, he was nice enough but once again like all other men I had no intention of seeing him again. The following morning I left him before he woke up and got a cab home, feeling lonelier than ever, it’s great having quite a few million in the bank, but what am I going to do with my life now it seems to have restarted?

I sent a text to Sarah and we ended up speaking on the phone for a couple of hours and she suggested I come up to London, but rather than as a resident, do it as a tourist, and we would meet up for a proper chat. I had to admit it was a great idea, so I booked a hotel for a few days and got the train there. I actually took a black cab in London as I wanted the full tourist experience, got to my hotel and checked in, just crashing out and relaxing in the bath and quite enjoying the change brought about by new surroundings.

In the evening I headed down to the bar and after showing my ID to the barman and room key, I got a small glass of wine. I was wearing a short black jumper dress as I wanted to be comfortable, and watched the barman wondering why everyone who looks at my ID doesn’t seem to notice that the year I was born puts me in my late fifties rather than late teens.

Anyway, I had no interest in doing anything right now other than read a book on my phone and drink some wine in a new place. When my glass was finished I went back to the bar to get another and the barman leant forward to speak to me quietly. “I just need to warn you that bloke over there thinks you’re an escort.”

I looked over and he was kind nice looking, mid forties I guess with a bit of salt and pepper going on with his hair and a decent body. I looked back at the barman and said, “Him? Really? But he’s hot!”

Well, that’s two guys I think are hot now as opposed to just them being shaggable.

I looked back at the barman and said, “So what would a girl like me charge out of interest?”

I was curious, I had never used an escort in the past, no idea of how that side of the world operates.

Anyway, two hours later I was back in the bar and I looked at the barman and started to laugh. I really didn’t think he was telling the truth, really, I didn’t. I thought he was just trying to warn me about a creepy guy, but I could see he wasn’t that he wasn’t that bad. And when he started to talk to me, I realised his nerves weren’t the type you get when chatting a girl up, I could see the difference immediately in how he talked. And then he invited me to his room, and I wondered what would happen. The sex wasn’t great, but did help to kill some time as I was kinda bored in the bar. He never asked if I was an escort, and I never said a price as I was curious to see what would happen.

What happened is he gave £400 pounds before I left and went back to the bar. I asked the barman to share it with some of his colleagues as I gave it to him, making him laugh. I’m glad I got paid for sex, but I’m never doing it again, call it getting ahead of future fantasies. I’ve read enough women’s magazines now to understand some of the things that I’m likely to think about in the future, so at least that’s one ticked off early.

The next day I did the tourist stuff, went to look at Buckingham palace and the tower of London, Westminster Abbey, and a walk around Hyde Park before I made my way to meet Sarah after she finished work. It was funny going to the places I had passed thousands of times but avoided for years, while this time not going to the places I do love.

Anyway, as soon as she saw me she stopped dead, then rushed over and gave me a hug telling me how much I’ve grown, which both pleased and annoyed me at the same time. She was surprised I had a driving license with my new face on it and liked my new name, saying, “At least I don’t have to try and remember anything about it beyond the spelling.”

After we caught up over all the usual stuff, we chatted more generally and at some point she said, “My god, you’re lonely aren’t you.”

I didn’t say anything, probably because I was afraid I would cry, so she placed her hand on mine and said, “Talking to you is such a normal thing it’s made me forget everything you’re going through. Tell me?”

And I did. I told her about my experiment with sex and that I liked it, about hot teacher and how we ‘only put it in a little bit’ which made her laugh and give me a look telling me I was stupid, how he suddenly disappeared and how I’ve since been with a few guys but never see them again..

“No second date? Why?”

“I’m not sure, I mean, I obviously like guys now, you saw that apparently when I woke up, but it’s like I keep thinking it’s a step too far, like if I see them again I may never get back to who I was.”

“Do you want to be him again?”

I looked at her and didn’t answer straight away and she smiled, saying, “I know. Once you started moving more like a girl I knew this was who you were now.”

She picked up her glass and raised it like she was giving a toast and said, “To my newest and my oldest friend Louise, may she finally have a second date.”

I started to laugh and picked up my glass in toast and said, “To my oldest friend, literally my oldest friend,” She kicked me under the table, “My she find the love that she deserves.”

She took a sip and said, “I think I have.”

“Tell me everything!”

And she did and I couldn't have been happier for her.

I spent the next day in London doing some more tourist stuff but had to go home for my next hospital appointment. On the way back I DM’d the guy I had the date with, the sweet guy who thought I would like a horror film and arranged a date for Friday. He would pick me up and we would go to the pub. My intention was to avoid having sex with him, I wanted to have a second date even though we had the first and third date on the first night.

We went to the cinema again and he picked another horror, a bit dull again, I mean, they are all predictable and you know exactly what is going to happen, but it was enjoyable enough in a distracting way. After that we went to nearby bar, one I haven’t been in before and it was kinda nice, not too busy and the music wasn’t too loud. In other words, a perfect date pub.

After getting our drinks and sitting down to chat, I felt quite awkward with the whole thing, trying to get to know the person who a week ago I practically jumped. I was still a little horny, but I had purposefully gone to town with my vibrator and dildo before coming out to try and kill that feeling to stop me wanting to have sex with him in case I got bored and ran out of things to talk about. As always I was worried about giving myself away, either my physical age or my true age, after all, all my cultural references are very different to his.

But conversation became much less of a problem when he smiled towards the door and slipped an arm around my waist. I looked around and two men about the same age as my date were walking towards us, looking at him and me, with a lot of unspoken messages being shared with their eyes.

Oh. My. God. He’s showing me off to his friends!

I suppose I should put a show on then, protect his ego a bit, but then I saw someone else behind the first two, a face I recognised which when it turned to look at over at us saw me, and it took a second for them to work out who I was and a slightly confused look crossed their face. Followed by a small smile and a glance at the hand around my waist. My date stood up and started talking to the three of them, saying hello and introducing me to them. Before they gave their names, I said, “I’m never going to remember all your names at once, so while you all say hello to each other, I will pop out for a cigarette.”

I picked up my bag and took out a lighter, one cigarette and my phone, stood up and walked towards the back door and the smoking area, and within two steps I heard a voice say, “I’ll join you.”

I kept walking but didn’t turn my head. I didn’t want any of them to see I had a big smile on face.

He joined me in the little smoking shelter outside and I said, “Hi.”

Hot teacher said, “Hi.”

We stood there looking at each other for a couple of seconds and as he started to speak I handed him my phone and said, “Quick, put your number in there and text yourself so you have mine as well.”

As he put it in my phone I tried to have a look to see his name, but I missed it so would look later.

He said, “I’m sorry, my student was released and I had no idea..”

I hugged him and said, “Don’t worry about that now, we can talk later, right now I need to know what’s going on, is this you and your friends local?”

He told me it wasn’t, but that a friend of his is good friends with my date and that while he knows my date as an occasional drinking buddy, they were invited along to see his new girlfriend.

“Wait, he told you all I’m his girlfriend?”

Hot teacher, now known to me as Tom, confirmed this, so I explained that we hooked up a week ago, and on the advice of my ex and my therapist I’m trying a second date to see how it goes, but I most definitely am not his girlfriend. I really wanted him to know that and later he told me I actually stamped my foot to make the point. Anyway, it turns out my date has a habit of falling in love very quickly, getting a bit too smitten and stops just shy of being a stalker. But he is known for being a bit much sometimes so was maybe hoping for support to help suppress his worst tendencies.

“Jesus! What have I got myself into?”

He put his hand on mine and I instantly felt safe, reassured by his touch. I turned to face Tom and said, “Ok, lets see if I’ve got this right? if I ghost him he will get all moody and possibly a bit obsessive, I mean, he’s already sends a lot of messages and is definitely a bit keen.”

Tom nods, so I carry on, “But what if he hates me a little bit, blames me for it, to help him get over it. Is that a good thing or will he become way too obsessive over me?”

He said, “No, he will hate you but get over it. Wait, what are you going to do?”

I quickly looked around to check for people - all clear - and reached under my skirt and pulled down my thong and stepped out of it.

“Shit, I left my bag in there.” I looked at Tom and said, “Here, put these in your pocket, but understand I want them back. Ok, who drove here and who lives in the opposite direction to him?”

Tom told me, describing which one it was and it was perfect being reasonably close to my apartment, so now I had someone to take me away from my date with a perfect excuse. I looked at Tom and said, “Right, I’m going to be a bit flirty with everyone but you and him, but especially flirty with the designated driver, and yes, I’m going to flash them all a little. You can put them in your pocket now by the way.”

He quickly stuffed my thong in his pocket, and I put my cigarette out, saying I will go to the ladies and see him back at the table. Once in the toilet I checked my phone and found out his name, and I have to say my heart did a tiny flutter when I read it.

I made my way back and I have to say I worked it a bit, not that I really know what I’m doing, but I know enough that a short skirt and no knickers will get men going, and now I know that hot teacher is called Tom and wants to be in contact with me, well, lets just say I was feeling very confident right now.

I sat down and Tom and the two friends of my date got a good look, and I made sure they knew that I knew they looked, smiling at them while sitting in such a way they had a good enough view of me, but not cute as good a view as the doctor gets once a week at the hospital.

I flirted with them, while giving my date just enough attention to be not quite be sure if I was flirting with them now, or still his date for the evening. Anyway, by the end of the evening I made my excuses to my date about needing to be up early tomorrow and getting a lift with his friend the car driver, Tom, and the other one. I sat in the front with the driver and made sure that my skirt rose up and I was very much on display. I wanted his close friend in the back with Tom to report back to the date that I was showing myself off quite freely, and now I was clearly flirting quite a bit with the driver. What no one else could see in the dark car is I had my left hand behind the seat and Tom was holding it, his thumb stroking the back of my hand. I really hoped he understood why I was doing this, putting on an act.

Tom was the first one dropped off, then my dates close friend, leaving me in the car with the driver. I think the driver was a bit upset I pulled my skirt down to cover up, I had no need to put on a show now and when he pulled up outside my building, I decided to give him a kiss, at first on his cheek, then his lips and finally with some tongue.

I was just about to push him away, say this was a mistake, I feel guilty etc, as that was all part of my plan, but he did it to me instead.

Yes! Now when they ask if anything happened, even if he denies it he will feel and look guilty and that will confirm to the date I’m a bit of slut and he will get over me quickly and hopefully learn his lesson not to fall in love with every woman he meets or talks to online. As I rode the lift up I looked at my phone and sent a text to Tom saying I was home safe and that I expect they will think I’m a bit of a slut and he will be over me, and I got a photo back followed by the three dots that then said, ‘what shall I do with these?’

I smiled as I looked at the photo of my thong on his bed, and replied, ‘Do you know a good place to have a breakfast tomorrow?’

I got a thumbs up in reply, followed by a time and location.

He got a thumbs up in reply.

So the next day we had breakfast in a cafe, then we went for a walk, followed by a drink and eventually a kiss. Nothing else happened, but we talked a lot. He explained about needing to stay at the school after lessons like they normally would, and he tried looking for me as much as he could, but he only knew my first name and the hospital wouldn't tell him where I was without a full name.

In the end he had to stop going there hoping to see me in case he got arrested for hanging around a hospital, and of course I was released so not there anyway. But a couple of days later we went out for something to eat, followed by a few dates and we really got to know each other. I think it was about two weeks later when I invited him in for the first time, and he went home the next morning.

If you’re interested, it was twice in the evening, once during the night when we both woke up, and again in the morning.

It was amazing, and yes, I did. Each time!

We kept seeing each other at least twice a week, but more if his workload allowed it, and without a doubt I was falling in love. Annette was happy for me, but also a little concerned, after all, being in a relationship as a woman is new to me. My hospital appointments carried on, and I was told that I am now officially, well, physically a 14/15 year old girl, but thankfully with make up can consistently look 18 or 19. But still, when I felt nervous I was told I looked young and that can’t have been easy for Tom, even if he was a bit younger than I originally thought at 27. Sometimes the physical age gap felt tough on me as well, sometimes the actual age gap felt weird and Sarah often said she wasn’t sure who was the cradle snatcher between us. But I was definitely thankful his family aren’t local as it would be weird being the same age as his parents while looking a lot younger.

Anyway, apart from him and the appointments the only thing I had to keep me busy was looking for a house to buy, I was a bit sick of not having my own garden to sit in and drink wine or a beer. I had managed to find one I liked and was in the final stages of buying it, then I had a lot of things I wanted to get done before I moved in. Part of me wanted to ask Tom to move in, but a much bigger part of me told me it was too soon for that, but I was pleased it was reasonably close to his and well within walking distance.

But these were things I was doing to try and distract myself from one very obvious thing, something that Sarah told me, Annette told me, and that I admitted to Tom only last night.

I’m lonely.