Sex With An Ex

Believe it or not, I'm a huge fan of relationships. In fact I spent most of my twenties carelessly bouncing in and out of them, never quite finding ‘the one’ and wishing more often than not that I’d be swept off my feet instead of just tripped up occasionally.

My last relationship ended rather badly a couple of years ago and if you look up ‘manipulator’ in the dictionary, you’ll find a picture of my ex, holding my heart (and possibly my severed head), looking smug and doing a little jig.

Before him, I dated James for five months and although our relationship was extremely hot and heavy and fun at times, it finally ended when I realised that behind the gorgeous exterior lay a man with no discernible personality and a tendency to refer to his 'sack' a lot. Beyond annoying.

So when he e-mailed me and asked me over for dinner, I was completely surprised. I hadn't spoken to him in years and, to be honest, hadn't really thought about him much in that time. I immediately became curious to know what he'd been up, what he looked like and, well, whether he still had the stamina of a racehorse.

He picked me up, we got a takeaway and spent the entire car journey chatting about old times and unashamedly eyeing each other up. Despite thinking that he'd been a bit of an arse all those years ago, I couldn't see any evidence of this now; perhaps I'd been a bit too harsh?

His appearance hadn't changed much and I still found him enormously attractive. I'm guessing he felt the same, as we let the takeaway go cold on the kitchen worktop and had surprisingly great sex in the living room. Afterwards I lay for a few minutes wondering why the hell I'd been so quick to dump this guy and whether we should start something up again.

We reheated dinner and sat down, both feeling rather pleased with ourselves. However, it took exactly fifteen minutes into the meal to remember why dumping him was probably the smartest move I’ve ever made. He said 'sack' 14 times (I counted), ate with his mouth open, and when he started to tell me that he'd contacted me because his girlfriend of three years (who was at a wedding in India), refused to go down on him, I nearly had a fit and left promptly with a “fuck you”. And the prawn crackers.

Sex with an ex can either be quite cathartic or completely stupid – I feel this was the latter. My libido has a lot to answer for.

I seem to forget sometimes that my relationships have ended for a reason, and not because I've mislaid them or decided just to come back to them at a later date. I did, however, get a rush at the thought of a new one beginning, and that feeling hasn't left.

I think I want a boyfriend.

Shit.