Brighton

Brighton

It was here where the family and I enjoyed dinner on one of my many childhood trips to Brighton and the Pier.
It was the same place where, 15 years later, he asked me to be his girlfriend.

When I first moved to Brighton almost 10 years ago, Uni pals and I frequented this club for underground house music.
Years later, I’d be out partying with a friend. We got drunk and he egged me on: Yes! Great idea to snort coke in the photo booth…
Many years later, I was back at the club, on a date with a man who would turn out to be awful. I didn’t make it past the door, on account of forgetting my ID. Perhaps this should have been a sign.
Six months later The Rockstar joined me. Clad in latex, eyeliner and with a handbag chockablock of lube and condoms. We’re in a sea of bodies; he’s inside me, they’re moaning and someone’s lost their butt plug.

Here I've had countless bad dates then hopped on the bus, back home, alone.
And where a man and I plotted plans of sex parties; where the would-be girlfriend and I flirted amongst friends while she remained distant before sneaking up to my bedroom after midnight. A few years later, here I am again with a man who I’m hoping will continue to make me laugh for years to come.

Can you see the vegan sushi place over there? 
At the bar, the man I thought would be my last sits sipping whisky cocktails. I try to enjoy mocktails since I've been injecting IVF meds to prepare for the donated sperm of another man.
Nine months later, I’m with friends in the restaurant. We’re giggling about sex parties, latex and new adventures. Another 3 months hence, I’m here, on a Sunday wincing at mouthfuls of wasabi peas and devouring A.A. Gill.

Oh, and what about that small plates wine bar?!
There has been host to new housemates, sisters, bad dates and good.
The drunken man who wouldn’t cough up his credit card; the day after a sex party when I could barely speak and yet the cute waiter complimenting my dress seemed to give me some oomph.

Then there was the French wine studio. Difficult dinners, almost-break-ups and putting the world to rights with friends.
And the night Covid caused us to adjust our plans so we sat outside, then inside at a table before retiring to the sofa. Three venues in one.

I wonder what other memories I'll form in my favourite haunts around Brighton.

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