If I've learned anything from TV and movies, it's that any good relationship is worth the wait.
And by "wait," I mean, "excruciatingly, intensely, longingly, tension-filled years."
Seriously. Matthew and Mary? Bones and Booth? Castle and Beckett? Jim and Pam? Some of them took literal years before they took effect (EIGHT YEARS in real time for M&M, if you notice the timestamps at the beginning of the episodes), and generally, they're full of strife and stress (Carrie and Big, anyone? That one's borderline abusive at best).
So really, it's no wonder that the dating lives of many people roundabout my generation-ish are, to put it gently, decidedly FUBAR'd.
So, my advice this week, I think? Maybe? Is:
Stop thinking your dating life is a movie.
Honestly, the number of times I've been guilty of this one is ridiculous.
It's really tempting, in a way, to build up a narrative around a person. To say, "But it would be great to tell people about how we met!"
I have an amazing meet-cute. With this girl, and we always tell it in tandem.
"So I was at this party," I start.
"We both knew this girl before, we both met her through OkC, and we both had gone out with her like once and realized we should be friends," she interjects.
"And this other girl, she brought whipped cream-flavored vodka to the party - I blame her for everything."
"Do you even remember her name?"
"Well, no. Anyway, to make a long story short..."
Basically, I threw up, almost on her, and she still went on a date with me.
It's a ridiculous story, it goes over great at parties, and recently when we told it to her new boif, he was greatly amused by it too.
I've told you all before about my best meet-cute of all time, with the subway musician.
So what's the difference here?
The thing is that the actual great meet-cute, with the subway musician, where we both come off looking dramatic, interesting, intriguing - that resulted in a dead-end relationship that, to be perfectly honest, was never really that great, not even in the fun parts.
The story I have with my friend, on the other hand, has become a great story by virtue of the amazing bond we've formed over the last year of our friendship. It's not a great piece of PR - in it, I throw up out a window - but it still manages to be one of my best stories.
Basically, my loves, what I'm trying to tell you is that the story of how you met will build into something of its own with the right person. Whereas, trying to force something when it's not there, just because the story would be SO GOOD, or because in your mind, this person would just fit so well into your five-year plan... Well, that's when you end up forcing a relationship to keep going, even when it shouldn't.
Lord, friends, how did I just manage to blend together two stories involving vomit? I only have like four stories IN MY WHOLE LIFE that largely involve vomit, and I've managed to put HALF of them into the last page.
And by "wait," I mean, "excruciatingly, intensely, longingly, tension-filled years."
Seriously. Matthew and Mary? Bones and Booth? Castle and Beckett? Jim and Pam? Some of them took literal years before they took effect (EIGHT YEARS in real time for M&M, if you notice the timestamps at the beginning of the episodes), and generally, they're full of strife and stress (Carrie and Big, anyone? That one's borderline abusive at best).
So really, it's no wonder that the dating lives of many people roundabout my generation-ish are, to put it gently, decidedly FUBAR'd.
So, my advice this week, I think? Maybe? Is:
Stop thinking your dating life is a movie.
Honestly, the number of times I've been guilty of this one is ridiculous.
It's really tempting, in a way, to build up a narrative around a person. To say, "But it would be great to tell people about how we met!"
I have an amazing meet-cute. With this girl, and we always tell it in tandem.
"So I was at this party," I start.
"We both knew this girl before, we both met her through OkC, and we both had gone out with her like once and realized we should be friends," she interjects.
"And this other girl, she brought whipped cream-flavored vodka to the party - I blame her for everything."
"Do you even remember her name?"
"Well, no. Anyway, to make a long story short..."
Basically, I threw up, almost on her, and she still went on a date with me.
It's a ridiculous story, it goes over great at parties, and recently when we told it to her new boif, he was greatly amused by it too.
I've told you all before about my best meet-cute of all time, with the subway musician.
So what's the difference here?
The thing is that the actual great meet-cute, with the subway musician, where we both come off looking dramatic, interesting, intriguing - that resulted in a dead-end relationship that, to be perfectly honest, was never really that great, not even in the fun parts.
The story I have with my friend, on the other hand, has become a great story by virtue of the amazing bond we've formed over the last year of our friendship. It's not a great piece of PR - in it, I throw up out a window - but it still manages to be one of my best stories.
Basically, my loves, what I'm trying to tell you is that the story of how you met will build into something of its own with the right person. Whereas, trying to force something when it's not there, just because the story would be SO GOOD, or because in your mind, this person would just fit so well into your five-year plan... Well, that's when you end up forcing a relationship to keep going, even when it shouldn't.
Lord, friends, how did I just manage to blend together two stories involving vomit? I only have like four stories IN MY WHOLE LIFE that largely involve vomit, and I've managed to put HALF of them into the last page.
