Rouel (AKA the banker)

Another complicated one, though so much more reason to like him that the Slug. I met him at uni just at the end of a 3 year relationship. We flirted and texted and dated for several months before I eventually went on a date with him. But Rouel. MMM… The first time I saw him, I could not believe a man could actually be that good looking. I knew I was going to have him. So I took my book up to the café he worked in on campus and bumped into him while he was campaigning, and generally made myself noticeable.

This was before the Slug, and at that point, I had never really had a 'casual' relationship. Once we had slept together, I assumed we were caught up in a deep and loving relationship. It became clear to me that this was not the case the night after he had persuaded me to do something a little dirty and I had yelled at him for being late when he was at a party. “I’m not a fucking drop-in centre” I exclaimed (a phrase I was to recycle for many others later). This phone conversation ended the relationship when he responded blandly, “well, that’s the thing, I’m not your boyfriend” and I threw my phone across the room. Now I have to use a hairband to keep the battery in.

He used to climb through my bedroom window to come to see me. He was clever, handsome and very very rich! So rich, in fact, he owned a plane. I knew this, of course waaay before he told me but couldn’t tell him I knew because that would show I had been talking about him to anybody I met. He eventually told me while we were watching Oscar Wilde, and eating crunchy m ‘n’ ms, announcing, “oh you do know I fly don’t you?”

We met up again a month or so after I broke up with the slug. He took me to dinner near his house and charmed the pants off me. Literally! From Christmas to early June, we saw each other every 2 weeks to a month. Every time, I would go round to his, have dinner cooked for me, be charmed to death and have some of the best sex I’ve ever had. The great thing about R was that he never felt the need to stop making me feel good about myself. I don’t think his ego could afford it. His pure narcissism is what made him such fantastic company, but only if I couldn’t allow myself to be emotionally involved.

It ended because of his choice; he just stopped asking me to come round. I never knew why, but I didn’t mind too much. It was what it was.