I will put my hands up and admit that I am positively useless with the whole relationship lark. I fool myself into thinking that a relationship is what would complete my otherwise brilliant life. But when it comes to it, I find myself running away from Mr.Right and running towards Mr.Wrong but oh so Right. I think my problem is I’m torn between the words of monogamy and monotony as for me, the two actually come together. I see couples embarking on wonderful relationships where they seem content, happy and calm about their marital status. The idea of spending a lot of time with one individual is appealing to them and it is considered a normal feat to remain devoted to one person. I have tried this, I swear. I’ve met completely decent guys who in fact have openly admitted they would be quite happy ‘being with me’ yet as soon as those words leave their sentimental mouths I decide to completely dismantle the entire thing. My heart races, I feel a knot in my stomach and the idea of spending time with them starts to feel like an obligation rather than a pleasant addition to my life. Ultimately I go on to set my sights on somebody who wants the complete opposite of Mr Sentimental. Then, rather ironically, desire what had previously been offered with a commitment-phobic nymph.
After much soul searching (I say much, mostly drunken conversation where I have random epiphanies about my life) I came to a few rather depressing, yet realistic conclusions as to why I have a remarkable inability to form solid relationships.
1) I’m a relationship smoker. I like the kind of man who is basically a cigarette. His very being is like nicotine and the more and more you have of him, the more addictive he becomes. At the same time, he’s terrible for you. He won’t provide the commitment you desire but gives you such highs that for a long time you don’t care. Until metaphorical cancer hits (i.e. another woman/his own boredom) and ultimately kills you...not a pretty picture no, no.
2) I hate the guy who is too nice. Ridiculous I know. Attentiveness at the beginning is fantastic but after a while it starts to wear thin. The bouquets of flowers become another object to fill an already cluttered desk; the good-morning texts become as tiresome as the monotonous bleeping of an alarm clock and suddenly seeing the devoted male starts to feel like an obligation rather than an event to brighten the day. But, that’s just my opinion; I hear some women like all that?
3) I like sex too much. Who would have thought that could actually be a problem? However, my theory lies not in the quantity but rather the hastiness of my actions. Rather than having a strategic waiting time I merely live by a philosophy of: If I want sex this evening, I will bloody well have sex. This doesn’t exactly give off the impression of a wholesome girl and as I have discovered, sets the tone of the entire relationship; a relationship that is entirely based on sex and not personal compatibility...bugger.
I would go on but I feel if I were to berate myself any further I would develop a complex and choose to stay away from men altogether. However, my rather small list does shed light on a thing or two. Basically, I don’t know what I want because the minute something else interests me I’m off quicker than you can say, ‘Time space continuum’. Like most women, I am honestly looking for that knight in shining armour to come along, whisk me off my feet and ride into the sunset on some valiant stead. Unfortunately the closest I have come to this was when I was five; playing Power Rangers and poor Daniel had to save me from the enemy with some sort of masculine gallantry. It could have been romantic but alas the armour was imaginary and the enemy was a teddy bear. Nevertheless, I have faith, honestly, I do. But for now I shall trundle along life in my merry manner fucking up relationship after relationship. Until, finally I come across a bloke who is bold, bright and bolshie enough to make me sit up, pay attention and still make me want cheeky morning sex a few months down the road.
