I’m moving back to London at the end of the year. I want to find a therapist to put my head straight. I have a porn addiction, I think. I look at my beautiful boyfriend and I want to give all of me to him; I don’t want to keep spending my energy on images and videos online.
I met this beautiful, young Spaniard. I was visiting a beach with my boyfriend and some friends, and I noticed the guy by himself, wandering the village on his own, having dinner on his own. On the ferry back, he lay down next to us, and then he started chatting to me at the bus station.
He had curly, light brown hair, with a tiny rat tail on the back. Blue eyes. Thin legs, smooth blonde hair on his arms. About my height, 1m80 – slim. We talked about work, his years in Rio and how he wanted to move to Colombia. He didn’t want to go back to Spain. I wish I’d asked for his name.