I become easily bored. I think it is as a consequence of how clever and brilliant I am that my mind is always racing. It is rushing over and over, thoughts and ideas percolating through it. I therefore need to be simulated and kept occupied. This translates into my relationships. I don’t know why, but after a period of time I just become bored with whoever I am with. I usually tell them that you’re the one I like best, you retain my interest and you’re the only one. Somehow this changes. I have often considered why this happens and I have reached the conclusion that is a combination of me becoming easily bored and that you become irritatingly clingy. Rather than realise I have become bored, you hang around and this begins to irritate me. In order to get you to understand that I do not want you anymore, I have to resort to more and more nastiness to drive you away. I must confess though, in most cases this seems to have the opposite effect. It is odd. The harder I try to push you away, the tighter you cling on and this then angers me. Every so often however there is a spark of interest and I remember how it felt before and somehow I must reflect that to you as you seem pleased. It does not last long and the all-encompassing ennui comes crashing back down again and thus I have to push you away as I try to find someone new, something different to engage me. Yet still you remain, repeatedly dangling and left in limbo. The occasional glimpses I provide you of how things you used to be really do draw you back and give you some kind of misplaced hope that I can rekindle what we once had. It never can be done as my sterile state returns and in order to fill that I can now longer turn to you. You remain is a state of suspension, bouncing back and forth as if joined to me by a piece of elastic. I won’t cut it and neither it seems will you.