Sorry to break all the ladies' hearts...

...but I have a girlfriend. Yes, finally, after nigh on three years of solemn and occasionally desperate singledom, someone has succumbed to my finer qualities. The mad shagger strikes again.

The thing is, you see, that I've never been one to go out with a girl just for the sake of not being single. We've all seen those minor tragedies that some people pass off as a relationship, watched poor, insecure souls frantically cling to the arm of someone they are clearly as suited to as chocolate sauce is to chips, simply so they may give off some semblance of normality to the casual observer. "Look, look at me with my partner. See how happy we are together, how loving and well adjusted!"

This has meant that I have avoided the "token girlfriend" route, thus making for a very long gap between lovers (although, for the sake of balance, it should be noted that prospective partners have hardly been beating a bloody path to my door). It's not even like I could keep my hand in, as it were, through the dubious virtue of the one night stand. I realise that this is a distinctly un-manly stance to adopt, but I've never enjoyed them. Being naked with someone you've known mere hours is just plain weird, not to mention a little undignified, to me. I know this may seem very British and reserved for someone who looks like the ageing bassist of a seventies metal band, but there you are.*

So here I am, with a lovely girlfriend and a glorious relationship in the making, a spring in my step and the world at my feet - although I must confess that I am, in more ways than one, out of practice.

This came to light the other evening when we were to share a bed together for the first time (to those blushing, don't panic, this has nothing to do with sex, to those who are disappointed, my apologies). As we settled down to sleep, she snuggled into the nook (you know the nook, ladies) and allowed herself, safe in my arms, to gently drift off. I laid there, gazing at the stars through the skylight in her bedroom, enjoying the near forgotten sensation of physical intimacy. I felt her flesh against mine, ran my hand idly up and down her midriff and thought to myself, "This is bliss".

Then ten minutes later, I thought, "Okay, my arm's gone dead now".

I then spent the next half an hour silently trying to dislocate my own arm so that I might escape without waking her, writhing and wriggling like some naked Harry Houdini in an attempt to get free.

I finally managed to get away, but she has been single for a while too before this, so the second she was unencumbered by my presence she reverted to Single-Person-In-Bed-By-Themselves Mode, a default setting for all single sleepers which basically involves lying diagonally across the bed. I spent the rest of the night on six inches of matress with a small corner of duvet to cover my testicles with.

Still, on balance, it was just about worth a patchy night's sleep to be able to wake up next to each other. In fact, I was great. So yay for me. For a change.

Peace. X

* Do not be too dismayed by this revelation. In all other respects I am more rock and roll than you can possibly imagine.