Part 6–Long-Term Relationships — The Worst Of Both Worlds

I’ve only been in one proper long-term relationship, my life mainly single shags in random beds, toilets and cars. I think I’m a commitment-phoebe, always wanting many things, including women, to be running at the same time. If something stops or fails, there is always something else I can concentrate on, anything to not think. If a relationship looks possible, my default setting is to self-destruct. I will do anything to undermine something possibly wonderful but which in the future could hurt me. And then there is the liberation of separation. Once more you are your own man who can do what they like, drink with mates when you want and dog around chasing skirts. A single man’s life, whether young or old, is a fairly simple life or so it should be.

I do have a bird, a chick, a lass, some crumpet, and no she’s not a bit on the side, but my bitch, my shorty, and maybe one day, my baby mummy? However, as much as we love each other, we live apart.

She has a fancy job up north and it’s killing me; long distance relationships suck. As much as I might be a bit of a Jack the lad, nothing can beat watching a movie with Abigail, just the two of us with a good bottle of wine and then a good rogering. This living apart thingy is crap.