The Suitors Ball is fast approaching and it's a nasty reminder that my suitor will be chosen shortly. I feel sorry for the poor unfortunate guy, whichever one of them it happens to be.

I'm already under the covers when he comes in. I watch as he takes off his shirt and jeans, and climbs into bed beside me. On any other occasion, the sight and feel of his near naked body would send my blood pressure into orbit, but I'm so exhausted by the events of today that I'm incapable of feeling anything even close to desire. And he doesn't ask anything of me.

I plant a gentle parting kiss on his lips, our strategy is well and truly screwed at this stage anyway. We barely lasted a day.

An eerie silence has descended over the house. Every few minutes, I hear a grunt and the scraping sound of a box dragging along the floor. Other than that, there’s nothing. It’s like the silence is the actual articulation of the emptiness we all feel.

Anyone who tells you relationships are easy is a damn liar

I work my way through the rest of my dates, but I'm only there in body. The boys usually give up after the first hour; it's difficult to have a conversation all by yourself. My ratings plummet, but at least my air-time is minimal now, I'm not offering much in the way of entertainment these days.

I fell in love with her suddenly, deeply, in the most all-consuming way.

He has me pinned on my back in record time, his mouth crashing against mine as we frantically devour one another. “Awesome speech,” he murmurs, pushing my sweater up and planting his hot mouth against my equally hot skin. “Very motivational.

Are you in any pain? (Ariana Skyee)Only my heart. (Cal Remus)