They say that your dreams should end where your arms do.
It's a recurring theme in my life.
The same can be said of desire.
Lusting after people way beyond my grubby grasp, entertaining my idle mind with what I'd like to do - despite (or because of?) knowing that it will never happen.
Maybe I need to keep a diary of my crushes, a dubious account of my hormonally-fuelled lusts, in every gory detail. Anonymous, lest anyone find out that I think Tanwar in Eastenders is kinda hot. Or that Helen Mirren is still on my list. Or that there is an actual plan for the unlikely scenario of me being single in India again, and Gaurav available.
Now, if I could use it as a basis for writing smut...............
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