A

He’s not the best lover I’ve had, not by a *ahem* cunt-ry mile. He regularly says and does things that are so stereotypically male that I find myself wanting to strap him down and forcibly inject him with estrogens so he stops being so fucking stupid. He has two main modes of behaviour towards me, either complete ignorance of my existence or blatant attention seeking. He plays his ipod through his car speakers at a ridiculously loud volume to make sure I know what tune he’s listening to in the hope that I’ll comment on it. He moved all the goalposts of our relationship without consulting me and appears to want me to hang around regardless. He constantly sings the first few lines of ‘just the way you are’ whenever we’re within two feet of each other. He always, always waits till he has my eye-contact to change from work suit to karate-gi and then, after class, from gi top to t-shirt. He’s materialistic and obsessed with money. He’s the eldest child but totally spoiled by his mother and has no empathy with how it feels to be responsible for younger siblings. He snogged my married mate at a works do a few years before I even met him so was quite obviously looking for a way out a long time before I came along and gave him the confidence to actually do something about moving his life on. He makes comments in front of our classes that perpetuate the common assumption that we’re a couple then privately expresses to me his ‘worries’ that certain female students have a crush on him. He ignores the phone if I call or text about our classes then immediately rings back citing some stupid reason for not picking up/replying at the time. He makes every effort to keep the conversation going way past my original query and on to those moments of awkward silence when it's obvious that one party doesn't want to end the interaction but can't find a valid reason to prolong it. He makes it clear by his expression that he hates my not confiding in him about what I have going on in my life and doesn't even attempt to hide his displeasure when I resolutely give him the same public image that I give everyone else. He picks up my mobile, ostensibly to bluetooth something over but really to flick through the menus taking note of my often changed wallpaper, phone book/designated ringtones and the names in my text inbox, always remarking on the fact that my male contacts outnumber the females by the power of ten.

He makes no fucking sense to me whatsoever.

I've never been the clingy type, not physically and certainly not emotionally. I'm not proud of it but in all honesty, and relative anonymity, I'm the coldest bitch you could never wish to meet. Once something is over for me it's dead and gone, that's it. End of, move on, oh well, c'est la fucking vie, live and learn and all that. Any and all previous feelings are simply filed away and forgotten whether you were a husband, lover, mate or parent. I just don't do baggage anymore. The only thing I ever carry is the memory of what made me switch off, the mental hand luggage that ensures I don't ever make the same mistake twice.

If we were to get together properly I'd hate him within weeks, I just know it. He'd fail all my tests, fall headlong from the pedestal he set himself upon in his attempt to be what I openly state that I want and need and I'd quickly resent him for not being enough to meet my fussy bitch standards.

So why the rubbery yellow fuck I continue to melt inside whenever I look at him, I don't know. Why I still dream of his beautiful arms around me, I'm at a loss to explain. Why, even in the very midst of my annoyance, I find myself worrying about him and missing his children confuses me no end. Why I still count him amongst my extremely small circle of real friends, I simply can't tell you. Why I feel guilty when I move on to other lovers, other relationships completely escapes me.

I make no fucking sense to myself whatsoever.