Don't let him waste your time.

Ah the morning after the end of a mini relationship. So last night the curtain fell on a month long, what shall I call it? Fling? Romance? Whatever it was it was all a little weird. I have a feeling now that I was doing what I consider to be one of the greatest of crimes for the sake of a bit of attention, affection and excitement, I was settling. I think I suspected that my heart wasn't into it quite early on, but, because I was so sick of the meaningless shags and wanted a change from being single, I went along with it, allowing myself to focus on all the positives. I concentrated on the fact that someone thought I was fabulous, wanted to take me out and not just fuck me. This allowed me to overlook the following danger signs that would normally make me walk away instantly. Oh, and the fact that I had known him for quite a long time prob clouded my judgement.

Alarm bell number 1- The boy was the best friend of my best friend's ex.

Alarm Bell Number 2- I wasn't too fond of his kissing technique.

Alarm bell Number 3 - He took me to his friends' barbecue, got pilled up whilst I remained relatively sober not knowing anyone there. It's worth noting at this point that I don't do drugs, never have and never felt the need to. He knew this.

Alarm Bell number 4 - After 2 weeks he tells me he is falling in love with me. The next day I acknowledged that it was the drugs talking and wasn't going to take it seriously. This was his chance to do some back peddling and save his skin, but no he told me that he had known exactly what he was saying. This caused me to freak out quite a bit.

Alarm Bell number 5- following the declaration of love I shagged someone else.

Alarm Bell number 6- Having not seen him for a week he had agreed to pop round so we could go for a walk. I hung around waiting for him for two hours before receiving a text telling me that he was in the pub with his mate (my best friend's ex). My response? I went out with another boy.

So you would expect after all that it would be over. No, for some reason, despite everything pointing to a massive, fluorescent sign flashing that this wasn't going anywhere, not least because of my inability to not fuck other men, for some reason I persevered, intent on trying to make this work. I don't know why or what I was trying to prove, to myself let alone anyone else, but on Monday, having been stood up the previous day, I allowed him to come round and have a chat. I told him why I was pissed off and that I had met up and had sex with another guy. I was completely honest. We agreed to be mates but this didn't feel right and before long he was stroking my leg and we were kissing. So by the end of the afternoon we were back to "seeing what happens."

When I went to meet him last night I had a moment of clarity. As soon as I saw him in the pub it all clicked into place. I didn't want this. I didn't want him. I was settling for someone who although on occasions was really sweet and lovely, treated me well and lavished me with attention, at other times had shown himself to be inconsiderate, inconsistent and unreliable. It made for the most awkward and briefest date I have experienced. It didn't end particularly pleasantly either and the scope for us to continue to be 'mates' -something he suddenly seems keen to insist is all we have been all along- well, it doesn't look too good from where I'm standing.