At this very moment, there is a party happening in my flat. There is noise from outside my bedroom, Radiohead is playing, and people are clearly having a very good time. I too am having a good time, but there is a part of me that is dribbling with worry about the arrival of people I knew at University. One man ran into me a couple of times in embarrassing situations (like being in a play that never quite didn’t stink and involved me nearly wearing a near frock), and the other man – well I had a crush on him for about a year and a half about six years ago – a crush that I could only actually get over by prostrating myself before him (metaphorically) and sucking up the fallout like a good little bruised homosexual. They are supposed to arrive at some point this evening, and I can feel my resolve and hard won confidence seeping from my feet – sucked into the floor. I’m scared to go back out there.