last night had the inevitable conversation with the hairy chested one. What exactly do you want me to be? I asked him. In my mind, there are two options: wife/live-in partner till death or frustration do us part, or casual sex provider in between relationships with more potential. In his mind, another option is more attractive which doesn’t encompass either of these, ie, I become permanent casual girlfriend unless or until a miracle happens. A miracle being that the hairy chested one meets the woman of his dreams on the bus and she likes him too.
So he prevaricated, until he had no more corners to hide in, and then asked me if I’d eventually like to marry him. Just a hypothetical question, which I answered hypothetically ‘maybe’. Maybe if none of these internet dates turns out to be remotely interesting. Now I”m back in the moral valley, which is what you live in when you’re not on the high ground (perhaps there’s also a plateau, but I’m definitely in the flooded areas). I sleep, I have sex, I kiss and cuddle, but I’m not committed. As soon as I open my mouth now, the hairy chested one is on the alert for more bad news ‘I’m leaving again’, ‘I’ve met another man’, and so on. So I am being a rotten cad. But I can’t quite reconcile myself to his stupidity and I mean that in the nicest possible way. Someone who needs to track down a former work colleague and doesn’t even think to ring the switch. Someone who becomes involved in pyramid selling of cosmetics! Someone who is capable of amazement at the plot denouements on Neighbours! I don’t know if I have enough brainpower for the two of us to survive on, if we lived together.
On the other hand inducements include a very large tv (which the kids would enjoy), the very latest in mobiles (always updated), and an ability to fix computers. And wow is that man good in bed!