'Come on,' you called 'let's spend the evening together. We'll have fun!'.
I was torn. Undecided. I had planned a trip to the cinema with a friend yet despite having you all to myself the last three nights, I was tempted. It was becoming routine, more serious but still, a very attractive proposition.
I enjoyed being with you and you're right; it is fun. You make me feel special, beautiful and tell me I am charming and clever. I enjoy being a little wild and carefree with you. We are extravagant; money is no obstacle. I can forget all my troubles and am freed from mundane responsibilities of daily life. My other commitments lose their importance in comparison to spending more time with you.
We have spent several nights together until the small hours of the morning but you never stay the whole night. When I wake up at 3am, you are never there. Sometimes I am glad about this because my sparkle has subsided and I am tired, restless and can feel a headache developing. I am no longer the same attractive, flirty person of the night before.
There are times when I need you though. Bad times when I am sick or shaky or feeling anxious and depressed. But you are never there. You don't want to know the downs and it seems you do not care about my health or wealth. You are a fickle fair-weather friend.
In the morning I vow not to see you again. I will ignore your calls and will not allow myself to be led astray. You are not good for me; my nan would have called you a 'bad 'un' and I agree. We're finished.
By lunchtime I wonder if I've over-reacted and been too hard on you. We each have our faults and you are no different. Besides, I love you. I want you.
In the middle of the afternoon I decide I will answer when you call. And you will call, as you do each day around five o'clock. Sometimes earlier, occasionally later but you can always be relied upon to come back.
I will agree to see you again tonight despite my better judgement. Deep down I know you are no good but I am drawn to you regardless. I cannot say 'No'.
I pick up the 'phone and call my friend. I plead off the cinema trip claiming a headache. It's not really a lie: I did have a headache today although it is almost gone now. I can hear the disappointment in her voice and feel bad that she had arranged a baby-sitter especially. But not for long. I do not dwell on my guilt. Instead I reach up for my favourite heavy crystal glass. Next, I go to the fridge and open the door. There you are, reliable as ever. Cool droplets glisten as they run down your neck and body. And you are waiting for me, knowing I will pick you up and take you out so we can spend yet more selfish time together.
I unscrew your top and listen to the satisfying glug you make as you fill my glass with your amber nectar. I sit back and relax and wait for you to bring the feel good factor to me once again.