The Stayer.

His approach was certainly different.

I met him one Saturday evening on a floating barge. Me – still in bikini and kikoi after midnight. Him – bad Hawaiin shirt. I thought it was very retro.

On Sunday morning he sent me an sms declaring his intention to spend more time with me. He said I was worth his time. He listed his reasons, my “surprising wit” being at the top.

We spent the last couple days of that holiday together. He was a JHB boy, so later he invited me up to a little game reserve off the N1. He loved cricket so I booked tickets to watch SA play at Newlands. He always treated me well, didn’t cross any of my invisible lines and for the most part, said the right things. But I have to wonder whether he actually liked me, or just really wanted to like me because it seemed like a good idea.

My left brain said that the relationship would be convenient and healthy. He’s intelligent, successful and everything a girl should want. You know the type. A good man. And he’d most likely never break my heart.

Unfortunately my right brain is screamed RUN. Because I didn’t feel that thing. You know, that rush of heady excitement that makes you want to do unspeakable things in public places. Is that a grown up mature attitude? I doubt it.

I was hoping he’d grow on me and I’d be done with my penchant for long haired, sulky drummers/bikers/barmen. But apparently there is only so long you can wait for that spark and my options were either to nip it in the bud, or do the grown-up thing, learn my lesson about love and stick with my good man.