I miss a lot of things about the real world: coffee, pastries, picking up things and smelling them, buying nail varnish, putting my forehead on a restaurant table when someone tells me a terrible story about the man they’re seeing, trying on hats. However, I don’t think I miss anything as much as I miss women. God, I miss women. I love my boyfriend and I’m routinely amazed at how well we’re doing at pretty much exclusively seeing one another, but I miss the physical presence of women with a dull ache that sits at the centre of my chest.
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