A nice lukewarm cup of tea

Like most Mums, I’ve grown to prefer my tea lukewarm, because when The Boy was tiny the chances of enjoying a nice hot brew were pretty remote.

I am now coming to see that I would quite like my love life to be lukewarm too, please.

Darling Pirate, the chances of you reading this are about as remote as the mother of a newborn enjoying a mug of hot tea, but just in case:

This hot and cold thing? Tedious. Utterly tedious. I get that you’re scared of commitment, I get that you aren’t used to letting girls in, I get that I’m pretty full on and that this must be particularly uncomfortable for a boy like you, and I get that I have responsibilities and you pride yourself on your spontaneous lifestyle. I know why you’re doing what you’re doing, I honestly do. But it’s  really fucking boring.

You draw me in, then back away. I ask for more, you push me away. I push you away, you draw me back in. We’re not working together here, are we? We’re a sodding Pushmepullyou, stubbornly heading in different directions.

Why were you such a dickhead on the phone tonight? Why are you so inconsistent? This morning, I was a ‘beautiful girl’, tonight I am an inconvenience – particularly galling as I called to give you news about the website me and my friend are creating for you. You’re getting all of my time and knowledge for free when it’s charged out at a rather random £122 an hour professionally. Fuck you. Do it yourself, wanker.

Why do you make me so angry? Why is this all such fucking hard work for so little reward?

And why the fuck do you have to be so pretty, so charming, so sexy?

I love the hot. You excite and intrigue me. But the cold is unacceptable. Knowingly or not, you are a cold, cruel man. And even though my self-esteem is a little absent right now, I can see I deserve better.

So yes. I’ll sacrifice the highs if it means we can lose the lows. Give me comfortable, safe, snuggly, uneventful, reassuring, predictable and stable. Can you do lukewarm loving, pirate boy?

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