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1 I celebrate myself, and sing myself, And what I assume you shall assume, For every atom belonging to me as good belongs to you.I loafe and invite my soul, I lean and loafe at my ease observing a spear of summer grass.Outside of the rap world, everybody has been busy buzzing about Lana Del Rey or falling in love with Sam Smith.This year has also been notable for the fact that some of the biggest songs weren't released this year.So, for the first time in my adult life, stretching before me like a punishment, was a period of enforced celibacy. It would be 100 days until we saw each other again... Maybe he wasn't exaggerating about his spelling after all. We're both a little wary after the episode with the spelling mistake, so agree to go back to the phone. It's difficult to make any conversation that doesn't revolve around that. The things we like, don't like, and would do if there wasn't this damned business about being committed to other people. WEEK ONE I depart for Central America with one suitcase, a laptop and a box of condoms. But the heart is a lonely and extremely self-sabotaging hunter. Was he suspicious that the ex-call girl couldn't last four months without sex? Take Chris Brown's ubiquitous banger "Loyal." You won't find it on this list because Breezy dropped the track in 2013.

Prostitution is steady, undemanding, lucrative work. But, as I found out, just because something pays the bills doesn't mean it's a good idea. Then, again, it is six in the morning and I hardly look catwalk-ready. Two weeks later and the sex with my boyfriend is back to normal, if not really good.

The smoke of my own breath, Echoes, ripples, buzz'd whispers, love-root, silk-thread, crotch and vine, My respiration and inspiration, the beating of my heart, the passing of blood and air through my lungs, The sniff of green leaves and dry leaves, and of the shore and dark-color'd sea-rocks, and of hay in the barn, The sound of the belch'd words of my voice loos'd to the eddies of the wind, A few light kisses, a few embraces, a reaching around of arms, The play of shine and shade on the trees as the supple boughs wag, The delight alone or in the rush of the streets, or along the fields and hill-sides, The feeling of health, the full-noon trill, the song of me rising from bed and meeting the sun. 3 I have heard what the talkers were talking, the talk of the beginning and the end, But I do not talk of the beginning or the end.

There was never any more inception than there is now, Nor any more youth or age than there is now, And will never be any more perfection than there is now, Nor any more heaven or hell than there is now.

Your romantic relationships tend to suffer, for a start. I found a new line of work and began a proper relationship. I had written about my adventures as a prostitute on my website, the book of my collected diary entries was about to be published, newspaper columnists were openly speculating about my identity, and I wanted to escape. I stay up all night wondering what my boyfriend's up to and thinking what an idiot I am. and taking along his ex-girlfriend , who has been nursing a crush on him ever since they split. But I'm hardly blameless, what with going off and falling for someone else, but still. The night before leaving, my other gentleman comes along to say goodbye. There's an odd, faraway look in his eyes, as if I don't quite match up with his memory either. And I am resisting the temptation to check his phone log... Belle de Jour's 'The Intimate Adventures of a London Call Girl' is out in paperback on Wednesday (Phoenix, £7.99).

My boyfriend knew about my former career and was broadly supportive of my writing, but his career meant he couldn't come with me. "The noise you do when someone looks great." "Did you mean PHWOAR? But the conversation never really recovers after that. His on-again, off-again partner, who is lives as far from here as mine does, is visiting in three days' time. In a parallel universe we're probably carrying on a scorching love affair without even a pang of guilt. Before we part I step towards him - a move, in other circumstances, that would signal the big romantic clinch; in this case neither of us can bring ourselves to cross that line. WEEK 14 I find out why my boyfriend is incommunicado. If it was a month earlier maybe I wouldn't go back. In 36 hours' time I will be in the arms of my boyfriend and the gentleman will be in the arms of his girlfriend. POSTSCRIPT By silent agreement, we're making the best of it. The frequency has since dropped off, of course, but I can't complain.