By KEL TITCHMARSH
I just sent this text to my flatmate:
I got brave.
My beloved and I are celebrating our second anniversary next week.
My sister told me that it was the worst pain she had ever experienced.
Be it a sense of occasion or a sense of defiance, I’m not sure. All I know is that I’m sitting here, without my pants, rocking gently and wishing I could turn back time.
It started easily enough. I wanted to do some landscaping in the lady garden. That pressure that comes with a relationship, you know? If you’ve been a long-time reader of this blog, you know that those words generally signal drama. In fact, just recently I wrote about how we shouldn’t be afraid to leave our fannies alone.
But did I listen?