So today I’m going to see Boynotquiteonthenetheredge for the first time in 2 months.

And I’m a bit nervous.

A lot of people seem to have been very interested in how BNQOTNE and I have been doing in lockdown, when not locked down together. HOW HAVE WE BEEN KEEPING THE MAGIC ALIVE, I’ve been asked. Well, we have followed a simple 5 step plan.

And no, none of them are about Zanking. (Zoom Wanking). Sorry.

1. Realism

First and foremost, we haven’t been.

Keeping the magic alive, that is, obvs. (I can’t comment on the other thing, clearly, as I’m a model of discretion and patron saint of personal boundaries).

The thing is that this is not a particularly magical time, is it? Anyone feeling super magical? No? We’ve both been trying to do our jobs, entertain and home school (haahahahahhaaaaaa) small children, on our own, without any of our normal anchors or support mechanisms, including each other.

It’s boring and exhausting. It’s also weird and worrying. And LONELY. And HARD. That’s not particularly… magical.

2. Shared hobbies

When we have managed to escape reality for a bit and aren’t too bloody busy or depressed, we’ve been throwing ourselves into new hobbies.

Have you seen that brilliant Museum Challenge thing where people are recreating fine art paintings with props from home? Please look it up, you won’t be disappointed! BNQOTNE and I have been doing this, but with nudes.

I’ve never been much into sending nude photographs because I’m old, it’s never been on my radar – and frankly I wasn’t born with the natural knack of the selfie.

Despite this, so far I have managed to recreate Boticelli’s Birth of Venus standing in a suitcase rather than a giant clam shell, Eve with a supporting cast of stuffed toys including sequined snake – and several reclining nudes from Degas to Schiele.

In return The Boy has sent me an image of him as David wrestling a lion (a giant bouncy unicorn) and Franz Von Stuck’s Mermaid (with a Barbie). My favourite has probably been a self portrait by Egon Schiele again, of the artist in an orange towel – only the Boy used a Sainsbury’s bag. I literally laughed until I cried.

We have both become competitive over attention to detail, lighting and prop absurdity.

Getting the right shot takes time and considerable dedication. You need to balance your phone on something the right height at the right angle. You get a better image with the front facing camera, which gives you the maximum of 10 seconds on timer to get yourself in front of it and in the right pose.

Sadly in my rush to mount the rocking horse for my John Collier Lady Godiva parody, I stubbed my little toe on my makeshift washing basket tripod, and I think I actually broke it.

Still got the damn shot, though.

They do say love hurts. So does taking nudes, the way I do it. Anyway, I defy this not to be the most middle class thing you hear today. KEEP ME POSTED.

3. Theme Zoom dates

Why wouldn’t you?

We’ve done Buffy fancy dress and binged watched series 6, and a slightly different kind of art date, where we both did various self portraits in different mediums, with wine.

Mostly clothed.

4. Bad puns

There’s been a great deal of exchanging memes, or general word play and punning.

I still think I got too little credit for my recent cheese/sex puns, which somehow came up in conversation, and included cum-embert and mask’n’boneme. (It is possible the lack of physical intimacy is taking its toll).

5. Sharing the small stuff

We’re still sharing the cute stuff the various smalls say, the less cute stuff when they’re whinging, fighting, refusing to do any bloody work or generally being ungrateful little eejits, what’s for tea, what we’ve done at work that day, political thoughts, bad dreams, daily highs and lows.

That’s really what life boils down to, after all. And if you’ve not got the small stuff you can’t have the big stuff.

But now.

Now we’re going to see each other in person for the first time in 8 weeks, and I’m NERVOUS.

It sort of feels like a much higher-stakes first date.

I’m nervous because I haven’t driven the car more than to the shops and back once a week, and he’s a 40 minute drive away, and I’m rusty. And a terrible driver at the best of times.

I’m nervous because when I get there (presuming I do) 2 metres is still so damn FAR.

I’m nervous becuase I’m supposed to be going for a long walk on my stupid broken toe, which is still sore.

I’m nervous about all the garlic I ate yesterday and that he’ll be close enough to smell it on my breath. I’m nervous he won’t be.

I’m nervous because I’m touch starved and haven’t touched another adult – or indeed been touched by anyone not launching a killer-bee-wasp attack, demanding a strictly lift, handing me something nasty, or requiring an injury to be tended to – for a really, really long time.

I’m nervous because I could really, really use a damn hug.

I’m nervous in case I don’t have anything to say because we’ve said it all on text and everyday is exactly the same anyway, and even if the small stuff is what matters in the end it’s ALSO true that there’s nothing new or interesting, and we’re basically living in the film groundhog day.

I’m nervous because I’m different on text, and that’s a large part of how we’ve been keeping in touch – I’m funnier, I’m quicker, I’m more honest.

Given the last few weeks, I’m also a lot bloody thinner too…

I’m nervous because I can’t disguise the lockdown weight gain by controlling my lighting or angles. Or props.

I’m nervous because we’ve both been having good days and bad days and they haven’t always coincided.

I’m nervous because everywhere people are so fed up and so confused by the patently stupid new rules that they’re making up their own, and that worries me, and I don’t want to give him anything, or get anything and bring it home.

I’m nervous that I’ve been looking forward to seeing him so much, and what if he’s not as pleased to see me as I am to see him.

I’m nervous that I’ve pinned a lot on being able to see him, and it making my life so much better, but what if it doesn’t: what if everything still feels awful, what if it makes it WORSE? What if it’s snatched away again in another lockdown?

I’m nervous, because I want him like me, still. And life is hard and confusing and I’M not sure I like me much at the moment, and everything about being locked away is setting off all my abandonment issues, but on acid.

I’m nervous about everything, because everything is scary right now.

The one thing I’m NOT nervous about is him dumping me and sharing my nude photographs – partly because I doubt he’s that much of a Zanker, and partly because if he does I look great and they’re bloody hilarious.

Wish me luck.