Moving on.

It has been pointed out to me that I "needed to move on" on a number of occasions. This betrays part of the stigma against a guy like me: that I wasn't whole until I was completed by someone else. The meaning is implied rather than stated, of course.

I moved on from Priyam on 21/03/2013. One of the saddest days of my life (the last day I woke up next to my children) and the beginning of my undoing came with a slight tinge of freedom from her tyrannical rule.

Have I had company from anyone else? Well, I fell real hard for someone later that year, and that's an understatement. It never came to anything, and she was gone faster than she arrived. My heart still belongs to Lucía, I'm afraid.

I now say her name and to have the memory of her is a good thing to have, just like Frodo was glad to have Sam's company "here, at the end of all things".

But I HAVE moved on. It was hard arriving to the conclusion that I would be seeing the rest of my days alone, for I have refused to reach out for another woman like one would a spare tyre.

I shan't do that to that hypothetical woman and, least of all, I wouldn't do that to myself.

Having spent almost 13 years in the company of someone who (still to this day) doesn't even remember the basic facts of my medical history (allergies, for example), let alone share interests, convinced me that there's a lot of people out there simply not compatible with me.

I know my standards might be seen as exacting, but I wasn't ready to settle for living in an intellectual wasteland again, just to stop having the image of "middle-aged loner". Nor was I bothered to go "on the pull". I consider one-night stands as little more than assisted masturbation, so I might as well take the matter into my own hands and be done with the hassle that people term "the game".

Moving on, for me, is knowing that I can't stand being with someone who doesn't read a book, play a musical instrument, has no interest in history, or biology, or is even able to play chess.

I am tired of people measuring pleasure in terms of how much they spent into the endeavour. I'm a guy who would watch the unfolding drama of a spider and a wasp duking it out for survival, a square-inch real-life documentary.

I am aware of many a historic landmark most people take for granted. And these sites are taken for granted because they don't charge the sheep an admission fee.

I am a guy with a song for almost any situation. Name the genre, and I'm likely to be into it.

I couldn't be with someone from the flock just for the hell of it. The notion fills me with dread.

So, yes, I have moved on.