The One (You Always Go Back To)

You know The One (You Always Go Back To). This is the person with whom you share two very powerful aphrodisiacs-chemistry and understanding. In my case, I met The One (You Always Go Back To) in the middle ofNew York's sweltering summer. We proceeded to spend the next few months throwing down whiskey shots at the Lucky Dog and stumbling home in the humid early mornings to sweat all over each other. And when the sun came up, there was never breakfast-maybe some more sweating and grunting, but never breakfast.

It wasn't particularly romantic, but it was what it was-amazing sex with someone who for one drunken night would fawn all over me, but from whom I could walk away the morning after without a second thought.That is, until the unambiguous, drunken "Hi," one would inevitably text the other a few nights later. Everyone knows what that "Hi" means; is there a more profoundly unabashed way to text for sex?

The biggest problem with The One (You Always Go Back To) is that you're likely to be simultaneously looking for The One, and it can be difficult to let the former go when a potential chance to fall in love comes along. Especially when the sex is: So. Damn. Good. And besides, The One (You Always Go Back To) can't break your heart-it's not theirs to break, and it probably never will be.

I met someone "special" in the midst of my summer romp with The One (You Always Go Back To) and for the briefest time there was a probably-wrong-but-not-all-that-wrong overlap. How could there not be when the sex was: So. Damn. Good (did I already mention that?)? I managed to "get a hold of myself" and curb my activities with The One (You Always Go Back To), but that didn't stop me from flirting dangerously with him the entire time, and I even found myself pining for him more often than I should have been when I was in a relationship.

As soon as my "relationship" ended, you guessed it; I fell straight back into the arms of The One (You Always Go Back To) without even skipping a beat. Lying breathless on his bedroom floor, scanning the room for my missing underpants, mere days after becoming freshly single, I found nothing but a certain confusing feeling, and wondering if I would have to do my walk of shame commando style. Why was I back here? Could The One (You Always Go Back To) be just plain old The One? Was our chemistry so intense that we'd always come back here to bump against each other desperately? Was I still drunk from all the whiskey.

I looked at him, already snoring on the carpet next to me. He was so beautiful. So charming. So good at sex. For a second, I tried to love him. I willed it. I thought about our future: romantic dinners, drives to the countryside, reading the paper to each other in bed on a Sunday morning, gorgeous, tan, golden-haired children. I smiled softly to myself as I retrieved my underpants from where they'd been tossed under the bed. It all seemed so impossible to me in that moment, but less possible still was the notion of not finding myself scrounging for my underpants on his laundry-riddled bedroom floor a week later. I walked out into the night with the sense that I would always come back here. I would always walk this way; it was my routine now.

But something changed, suddenly and unexpectedly. Just as I was preparing to fall back into the old whiskey shot and a root routine, I met someone special. And not "special" like the aforementioned relationship-special as in there hasn't been any overlap, and not from any want of trying on behalf of The One (You Always Go Back To). It's a strange thing, the changing of plans, and I get the sick sensation that this might be the end for The One (You Always Go Back To).

Because there has to be an end, right? If you're not going to make The One (You Always Go Back To) your One And Only, eventually you just have to stop-cut it out, don't touch those genitals again. Because how many times can you run out on someone before they start looking for a better deal? Don't they deserve better than to be left high and dry every time your heart seeks something else anyway? How many times will someone take you to bed when you come calling with your broken heart before it exhausts you both? If someone can't be Your One, can they ever be satisfied with being your fall back? And can you always be satisfied with them simply being your go to when you've got the blues? Should you just get out now, before it turns bitter and sours the whole lovely sex thing you've had?

Eventually, you have to grow up, I suppose. And part of growing up is being able to find solace in your own company when you're downtrodden, rather than turning to someone you know you're only using to boost your self-esteem. The One (You Always Go Back To) will always be just that-what you have is habitual and ingrained. You've been acting out the same old scenes with them for so long now that it's impossible to script new ones, let alone improvise. And that's when you have to make the decision and The One (You Always Go Back To) becomes The One (You Need To Let Go). It will take willpower, but I think it will be worth it when you're cut loose, and can be completely unburdened to fall crazy head-over-heels with someone that gives you a companionship beyond a shot glass and a3 a.m.scurrying tiptoe to find your knickers.

Follow Kat on Twitter @Kat_George