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wage war and pull the world apart at the seams if I have to. And in the end I’ll win. Or I’ll lose. But I will never be able to look in a mirror again if I don’t try, with every fucking thing in my arsenal.
     

     
    I shouldn’t be doing this, it’s against the rules. I’m fed up with fucking rules. I want to live for a change. Davy and I just revolve around each other. I’m sick of it. Sick of having a part-time relationship. Sick of having part-time mediocre sex. So after leaving my self-defence class tonight, still sweaty and pumped I decided to go and crash at Davy’s. Hopefully, get some hot sex and expel my excess energy. I’ve had it in an abundance lately, and no matter what I do I can’t seem to shake it. However, now I’m outside his building, I feel awkward like I shouldn’t be here. It’s stupid, I’ve been his girlfriend for six months. Spent nights in his bed, but I still feel like I hardly know him. The worst thing about that is the lack of annoyance I have with it. I don’t feel the need to push and find out more about him. I don’t ask him questions or ask for more time with him. Hell, the truth of tonight is just that I want sex, once a week isn’t cutting it anymore. If there’s one thing that makes me envious of Mel, it’s her almost constant sex life. I want to feel constantly sated, I need someone to fuck me into next week. More than all of that—I just want to feel wanted. Sexy. Like my boyfriend can’t keep his hands off me. Davy doesn’t do that. He never has.
    Standing in the elevator, watching the numbers light up, I wonder why we’re still together. He doesn’t make me feel alive, fuck, he barely makes me feel anything.
    Remember —Stable, dependable, consistent. That’s what I need.
    After reminding myself why I’m with Davy I walk to his door, unpicking the sweaty strands of hair that have stuck to my face on my dash here. I knock and wait. After a pause and some commotion, Davy answers the door.
    “Libby, what are you doing here?” he asks frowning.
    Placing my hand on his chest I gaze up at him through my eyelashes, trying to look sexy.
    “Ugh, Lib, get off me you’re all sweaty,” he says picking my hand off him with his finger and thumb like he may catch a disease from touching me.
    “Davy, I’ve come over here for some hot, sweaty sex, are you seriously turning me down?” I ask exasperated.
    He just looks at me with confusion, or maybe it’s disgust. Whatever it is, my desire has disappeared and I’m left wondering again whether we should be together. Glancing around I realise I’m still in the hallway.
    “Aren’t you even going to invite me in?” I splutter, amazed at his inhospitality.
    “Well, I have a lot of work to get through tonight and—” he starts telling me but I cut him off.
    “Don’t worry about it.” As I turn to leave, I change my mind spinning back around and I can see the surprise wash over his face. “Actually, before I leave I just want to let you know that I think we should have a break.”
    “A break?”
    “Yes. You know those things people in relationships sometimes have when said relationship is a bit shit,” I reply and his eyes widen.
    “We don’t need to have a break. We’re fine, we just need to maybe redefine our relationship slightly,” he tells me.
    “Ugh!” I moan and he tuts, looking around and checking the neighbours haven’t heard me. “For fuck’s sake, Davy. This is ridiculous. You know, I never realised what a pussy you were until now.” My mouth gets away from me and I feel bad for a second, and am about to apologise when he opens his mouth and reinforces my thoughts.
    “You're so brazen Libby. That isn’t you. When I first met you, I thought you were quiet and mousey. I thought you were a lady, but this behaviour shows me you’re not. What’s more, is that since you’ve come back from England it’s like you’ve allowed this other Libby out of her box. Now you want a break? Well,