Married twelve years to a man with no interest in any of this

My husband thinks the rope is a bit like my brother's fishing. No interest, no threat, no curiosity. He has met the last person I was involved with and the two of them talked about hockey for an hour. Twelve years married, and the most remarkable thing about the arrangement is how thoroughly unremarkable it is at home.

Thirty eight, the east end, six years in. I put that first because it is what people want to know and because a certain number of them will stop reading, which is the correct response if this is not the shape you want. Everything is known, everything is agreed, and none of it is a discovery waiting to happen to anybody.

Practically it means I have two evenings and one weekend afternoon a month, that Sundays are not available, and that there is a person at home whose plans weigh as much as mine. I am not looking to fall into a great romance and I am not offering to be anybody's primary anything.

What I am offering is stable, honest and long. My last partnership ran four years on exactly this basis and ended because he took a job in another province. He and my husband still send each other things they find funny, which I consider slightly ridiculous and would not change for anything.

I would rather hear from somebody whose own life is full. In my experience this only works with people who are not looking for a gap to be filled.