Dissonance

I am surprised sometimes that I can keep two entirely distinct ways of thinking in my head.

On the one hand there is the biggest strumpet in Strumpetville; the one always on the look out for a causal assignation or two online. Flirting with guys on the train; eyeing up guys in the office. The part of me that derives enormous satisfaction from just sleeping around.

Then there is the part of me that wants to be in a loving, monogamous relationship with someone I love and who loves me. The idea of even looking at someone else would fill me with dread and instead I would get fat and happy picking out curtains, going for walks and snuggling up one the sofa with my double-plus one to watch romantic movies.

Of course there are other sides to me too. The ambitious hard worker; the vain and pompous bore; the shy and retiring introvert. All part of Frumpella’s rich tapestry.

Yet it really strikes me that I’m living a very Jekyll/Hyde lifestyle; searching for Mr Right whilst quite happy to make do with Mr Right Now (And, occasionally, Friends).

I have, it is true, put myself about a bit since New Year. Well… more than a bit. But more of that another time. Yet last night I gave myself the evening off and had an early night and caught up with my television viewing and had a really nice evening.

And, gentle reader, you know what would have made it perfect? Snuggling up in someone’s arms; under the covers there with someone. Nothing frisky, though certainly a sexual element, the undertone to kisses and cuddles… but the most important thing would have been laughing a the same things, commenting on the same storylines, slowly drifting off to sleep together. The nice things that couples do [I’m told].

Guess what else? I wasn’t too sad about it. Of course I felt a bit lonely and wistful; only to be expected I suppose. But I was also rather hopeful in a suspiciously cheerful way that it will all turn out for the best. “Goodness knows”, the cheerful fairy said to himself, “I have a lot to learn about this relationship lark, it is true, but I’ll get there in the end”.

I often wonder how this story will end; half a century or more down the road. However many guys I sleep with (yep, still carrying on with that carry on) I wonder how many assignations, boyfriends, lovers, True Loves and true friends there will be before the two parts of me resolve into one.

Although "They Lived Happily Ever After" does have a certain ring to it…