As A Novelist, I'm Incredibly Lucky To

The Early Days Of Any Relationship Are Punctuated With A Series Of Firsts - First Sight, First Words, First Laugh, First Kiss, First Nudity, Etc., With These Shared Landmarks Becoming More Widely Spaced And Innocuous As Days Turn To Years, Until Eventually You're Left With First Visit To A National Trust Property Or Some Such.

We're Not Ourselves, Are We? I'm Certainly Not Myself, Not Anymore. And You're Not Either. You Don't Seem Yourself. Not As I Remember You.

Who Do You Think You Are, Jane Eyre? Grow Up. Be Sensible. Don't Get Carried Away.

I Am Not Up To This. I Am Not Capable. I Thought I Would Be, But I'm Not. Some Part Of Me Is Missing, And I Cannot Do This.

For His Thirtieth Birthday He Had Filled A Whole Night-club Off Regent Street; People Had Been Queuing On The Pavement To Get In. The Sim Card Of His Mobile Phone In His Pocket Was Overflowing With Telephone Numbers Of All The Hundreds Of People He Had Met In The Last Ten Years, And Yet The Only Person He Had Ever Wanted To Talk To In All That Time Was Standing Now In The Very Next Room.