Lonely.

I’m lonely.

Really lonely. In the way that I imagine little widowed old ladies are, except at least they have the memory of once having been loved to sustain them.

I’m on the verge of booking an appointment with The Cuddlery, who have staff in my city. I feel that it’s weird or pathetic somehow.  I suppose it’s kind of the same as booking a massage therapist to give me a neckrub or a counsellor to listen to me – paying for the absence of a life partner. Maybe I’m afraid I’ll become addicted?

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