Four men this spring have described me as a chance to practise

Four men this spring have written to me, in perfectly courteous terms, about what they were hoping to work on. Not what they wanted from a relationship. What they wanted to get better at. One of them itemised it. I understand that people have to learn and I have been generous about that in the past, and I am finished.

Thirty four, the 905, eight years in. What I am is a person who would like to be in a partnership that has rope in it. What I am not is a resource, a stage in somebody's development, or the reason a man was noticeably more capable in August than he had been in March. I have been all three and each time it ended the moment the curve flattened out.

The distinction has nothing to do with skill. I would happily be with somebody two years in who is fumbling, provided the fumbling happens inside something that is genuinely about the two of us. It is about what I am for. If I am for the practice, we will both feel it by month four and only one of us will say so.

So here is the alternative. Somebody whose first message is about their week, their life and what they want in a person. Somebody who would still want the evening if we spent all of it talking. Somebody who has been through the phase where this is a hobby and come out of it wanting a partner.

Not looking to be anybody's project, however respectfully it is framed.