Truthfully, I’ve forgotten what it’s like to be in this stage of relationship. You know, the time when you innocently flirt with each other and tirelessly find excuses to text each other (and not to be seen as overly aggressive and ambitious at the same time).
Really, I’ve forgotten.
I’ve forgotten what it’s like to drop hints and try to decipher his – you know, like you suddenly become extra aware of his every little movement, and that this every little movement has a complicated code. Like, last night during the dinner date, does he tell me it’s nice to meet me after or before (cos according to He’s Just Not That Into You, before means thumbs up, and after means thumbs down)? Or does he try to accidentally touch my hands when handing me back my iPhone? Are they just coincidences? I don’t think so. Ehm, he texted me after three days of silence. Is he just bored or does he genuinely-want-to-talk-to-me-because-he-misses-me-and-suddenly-realises-I’m-the-one-he-wants-to-spend-the-rest-of-his-life-with? Really, this takes skill.
I’ve forgotten what it’s like to not be able to text him when I’m that desperate in texting him, just because it’ll look as if I’m that weird, unsophisticated girl trying to score a goal, or how to resist the temptation to call him just because, well, my phone doesn’t actually ring, too.
I’ve forgotten what it’s like, lying on bed at night, thinking if he’s feeling the same way.
Really, I’ve forgotten.
I’ve forgotten what it’s like to giddily smiling at my iPhone screen when seeing his name (even when it’s a checking-in status update on Path that has absolutely nothing to do with me), or to gain that stalking 101 skill and draw a possible map of his daily activities. I’ve forgotten what it’s like to see his super melancholic updated Blackberry Messenger status and holding my breath, (and thinking, is this highly ambiguous status dedicated to me?) or to check his unsigned what’sapp for the 17th time since 7.31am yesterday.
Really, I’ve forgotten what it’s like to make my heart beats faster, putting 100 extra effort to dress up, or to give the best impression by dropping clever comments and not talking too much when meeting him. I’ve forgotten what it’s like to flirt with other guys slightly and glancing back to see if he is irritated, jealous, or at least, notices what I’m doing.
I’ve forgotten what it’s like to be in the courting game.
I’m not saying that I miss playing the game, cos truth is, I hate it (thanks, dear, for not even giving both of us the time to play the game). But when suddenly a friend comes to me and tells the story of these games, I admit I’m a bit stuck. Truth is, I don’t remember anymore, even when people say it’s the best part of a relationship.
I’ve forgotten what it’s like, but one thing I know for sure – from the way you’re telling me, the courting game may actually be both sweet and bitter, with emphasis on the bitter part. Those excessive daydreaming that he will ride on a white horse, guessing and trying to draw the plot of him reciprocating your feeling, or just plain wondering and assessing his one sentence-talk the other day for the zillionth time – they’re not healthy.
The stage that comes after the courting game, well, that’s where the real thing is. You know, being committed to someone is not the end of your adventurous soul – it’s just the starting point.
