Before he and I kissed for the first time, the boy said ‘you are a very nice girl.’ He said it slowly, a ialking-in-his-sleep mumble but his eyes in touch with mine. The kissing and sex part of our encounter was clumsy and unremarkable, but the whole evening is drenched in romantic feeling for me. I never saw him again. I want another night like that. That look in a person’s eyes just before they kiss you, I want to see that again. A kind of thickening of the atmosphere, as though you’ve entered personal mutual weather conditions. I remember one time, out with friends in Brighton, a friend of a friend turning slowly on their heel, wondering whether to kiss me. I didn’t notice in time. You never imagine you’ve used up all your life’s eyes-before-a-kiss moments. Very occasionally I feel a theatrical stab in my heart, I don’t want to live if they’re all gone.