I told him to get out... and he went.

He went, but even as I slammed the door closed behind him I knew that he would be back. I knew that he'd be back... and I knew that I would let him. Just as surely as I knew the colour of his eyes or the smell of his skin. I knew that in the end I wouldn't be able to refuse. And worse than that... I knew that he knew it!

At that moment I hated him more completely than I'd ever hated anyone else before in my life. I hated him in a way you could only really hate someone that you loved.

I hated him for what he made me do, for what he had made me become. I was a liar and a cheat, betraying my boyfriend and my friend and for what? A few stolen moments of pleasure and the chance to be someone's dirty secret.

The relief was instant as he went. If he had refused to leave, if he had touched me one more time, if he had smiled at me again that way or held me in his arms I would have been lost. I would have given in to his needs and taken him to my bed without question. I would have kissed him and loved him and forgotten about the guilt and the betrayals until tomorrow.

I would have done all those things, but he went and I was spared.

Maybe he didn't realise he was so close to breaking down my resolve or maybe, just for once, he was letting me hold on to the last shreds of my self respect.

As my fists connected with the supple leather of the punch bag I let my anger flow through me, but I felt no release, the rage inside me was all consuming and a simple act of violence was not enough to quench it.

Collapsing back onto my bed, sweat soaking my skin, I noticed my hands worn red raw with the repeated exertion, but I felt no pain. The pain inside ran so deep that I could not feel anything else.

If only there was some way I could remember how not to love him, but I can hardly even recall such a time, loving him seemed to be the only thing I've done for so long.

As I lay on the bed with my eyes closed I could see his face smiling down at me. The soft curve of his full mouth taunting me with promises of how good they would taste. His gorgeous molten eyes glistening with a desire that I knew was just for me.

I knew that wherever I was or whoever I was with it would be him that I wanted. Why couldn't he just leave me alone?

"Please Craig," I breathed into the stillness of the room, "Just leave me alone."

The first time he told me to go I didn't believe him. I knew that he wanted me so why would he ask me to leave?

The second time he said it I could see he was serious. The anger that flashed in his eyes, the eyes that were usually so gentle, scared me.

It wasn't until I was walking back home that I realised I wasn't afraid for myself, or for what he might have done to me. I was afraid for him and for what I had done to him.

It was then that I knew this wasn't a game anymore. I couldn't just play with his emotions and not expect any consequences. He'd pretty much told me that when he threatened to kiss me in public. At first I thought he was joking, but the look in his eyes, the pain in his eyes told me another story.

It was all or nothing and it was up to me to choose.

I fished my phone from my pocket as it beeped the arrival of a text message.

"Where are you you're late."

It was from Sarah and I wasn't ready for her yet.

My feet lead me to a small pub far away from any of our usual haunts where I sat quietly in the corner for some time nursing a bottle of lager while a million thoughts cascaded around my head.

Firstly there was Sarah. Beautiful, intelligent, kind… everything I ever wanted and what's more she loved me. Staying with her would be so easy, there would be no backlash, no need to fight or explain my feelings, she's what is expected.

And then there's John Paul. My friend. My best friend. The man I can't seem to stop sleeping with… or stop wanting.

He's the first thing I think of when I opened my eyes in the morning and his is the face I that I see when I close them at night.

Why did life have to get so complicated? Why did he ever have to say he loved me?

Friends was simple, we could be together without question.

Lovers made it complicated. I made it complicated.

The lager had grown warm in my grip and no matter how long I sat here nothing was going to change.

It was time I made a decision and I knew that whatever I decided someone would get hurt, that was unavoidable.

So all I could do was be true to myself and hope that they would understand.