Misunderstanding the L word
Relationships are tricky. They are made harder because popular fiction completely miss-sells what makes a relationship work or what romance really is. I suppose it’s probably because reality often doesn’t make a good story, in the same way speech is rarely good dialogue.
I mention this because I was, until very recently, a complete berk about love.
I thought romance was all about longing and repressed passion, the sort of stuff that would help a vampire, a werewolf and lady shift a lot of books. I’d mistake the sort of sick feeling you get sometimes for what love was. I didn’t understand what love really was. Let’s take a moment to listen to a ballad.
I’m not if popular entertainment can be entirely blamed for this mishap.
My first few relationships as a teenager were fraught with misunderstandings and obviously, lots of standing around wearing just a No Fear T-shirt even if it was cold because that was the only cool thing you owned and if she saw it she would totally hold your hand when you went to the cinema.
But maybe that’s just the nature of teenage relationships. You don’t really know what is going on but you do it with gusto. In the few years after that and for most of my twenties I seemed to be attracted to a rather bad sort. Don’t get me wrong, it was often excellent fun but not really productive.
I assumed that this sort of relationship was the normal. Never knowing what was going on, texts or even girls appearing at all times of the day and being quite stressed about the whole thing.
THIS IS NOT NORMAL
If you find yourself ever fretting over an email to or from them, or if you are stressed a lot, something is wrong. Do not accept this.
I can’t believe it took me 30 something years to realise, but then I am a berk.
Tomorrow: Toast realises that gin isn’t a health tonic.