No offence but it is that wretched time of the year again. There are only three times in a year when I feel like being in a relationship. One: On Valentine’s Day. Two: On my birthday. And Three: well, all of the winters actually. Okay, before you begin to read between the lines, please know that I know – perhaps better than most around me that other people are not medicines. I will not let a person in, hoping against hope it will be an antidote to my depression and melancholy. I will not use a body, just because I am lonely and in a position to use somebody.