I’ve been doing some reading recently. Well, that’s if you can class skim-reading all of the deep and meaningful quotes that Instagram’s algorithm shoves onto your feed after you accidentally click on JUST ONE after listening to too much Taylor Swift. Let me tell you this: once you start, you can’t stop (clicking and listening to Taylor, that is). It might be 11pm and you might just be starting to struggle to keep your eyes open, but, if you’re reading things like ‘be the wonder you seek’ and ‘satisfy your soul, not society’, it’s incredible the enthusiasm you can find within. Like joining the 5am club and fitting in a 5K, a fat-free smoothie, and a spot of yoga all before the sun has even risen.
Before you know it, page after page of motivational quotes have ganged up on you (ironically) and all of a sudden, you’re where no man, woman, or child should find themselves. Wading through quotes about love that are set on top of black-and-white photos of lovers. You know the ones. And then you stumble across one that changes everything:
‘A good match is somebody that makes you feel calm and comfortable.’
Er, hang on. What? WHAT? What about the butterflies? The dry mouth? The tripping over your own tongue? Have I been living a LIE? This was not the information I needed at now-1am. I guess the 5am club will have to wait for another day…
***
They say that when you know, you know. I say that when they say ‘they’, they’re referring to a certain group of people. Like, every. Single. Person. In. A. Couple. Until they break up and they pretend that they knew that it wasn’t right. Even though they’d be happy to reinforce to you every time that they saw you that they just knew it was.
It’s this that makes me wonder whether the knowing is a genuine thing that we’ll all experience at some point in our lives, or if it’s something people go along with because, well, they’ve bought a puppy together. And we all know that once you’ve bought a puppy with someone you’re in it for the long haul. Least for the dog’s sake.
If it is genuinely true, I want to know what happens. In my head, it goes something like this: one day, out of nowhere, you’re blinded by blue skies, birds tweeting, and the smell of freshly-mown grass. And in that instant, you just know. Is that where I’m going about this wrong?
Most of my friends are in what we tend to refer to as ‘serious’ relationships. I.E. they’re on each other’s car insurance, they’re happy to only see that willy or honeypot for the rest of their life, and they’re relaxing into the late-twenties’ version of ‘Netflix and chill’ (which is, quite simply, Netflix and chill). In all serious, they’re secure in their relationships in the sense that they reckon this person is the person they’ll be with until the day they die. AKA they’ve found ‘the one’. I can admit to having asked every single one of these friends if they ‘knew’. Not one of them has yet said ‘no’. When I pressed on with ‘but how do you know that you know?’, all of them said, matter-of-factly, that they ‘just knew’. I find this most curious.
Because did you just wake up one day with a longing in your heart and just know? Or are you only saying it because it’s the same few words you’ve heard all of your friends in relationships say, because it’s all they knew to say, too? Is it because you think your nearest and dearest won’t cope if you admit that you’re not 100% sure, but you 100% hope that this is it (which is totally fine, by the way. And whilst we’re here, let’s start being better at normalising and supporting our friends that ‘don’t know’.) Or is it because actually, you couldn’t be more repulsed by the idea that they’re your ‘one’, but damn, vet’s bills are way too much on their own?
In my still-relatively-young and naïve opinion, we all too often fall into the trap of thinking life is set in stone. It’s really not. As humans, we’re not exactly conditioned to enjoy or embrace change. We’re wary of the unknown; we often presume worst-case before best-case. We like what we’re familiar with – our people, our jobs, our lifestyle. That also accounts for the person you’re going out with, whether you’ve been together since 15 or you just met a few months ago.
Out of the boys I’ve been on first dates, second dates, and third dates with, out of the boys I’ve had three-month-long-ships with, and out of the boys that I’ve dated and re-dated and re-re-dated with, I’ve never been with a guy that I didn’t see a future with at the time. ‘Future’ hasn’t necessarily meant wedding bells and ten babies and a big, white house with a picket fence. To be honest, I can’t really define what it means. Which is why this whole ‘when you know, you know’ debacle boggles me. Because what I do know is that I wouldn’t be spending the time or the money or investing the emotional energy if I didn’t think that one day, this could maybe be my ‘I just knew’ story.
And so we hit the interesting part. I’m writing this having been on a few dates recently – with the same guy, before you ask. We’re meant to be going out again, so I’ll keep it sweet and try not sabotage anything. The difference this time? I’m doing things on my terms.
On an almost-embarrassing amount of occasions before I’ve put the person I was dating a million and one times before me. Like, even after a couple of dates. Not in a ‘you MUST meet my parents tomorrow’ kind of way, but in the ‘sure, I’ll bend over backwards to come to this date that’s at a really annoying time for me and is really far away and serves food that I’ve told you I don’t like’ kind of way. Or, you know, desperately wanting them to think that you’re an independent woman who can pay her bills so you end up footing date one, then two, then three. Then their Netflix bill (yes, this actually happened). It’s no wonder I’ve then felt like a total fool when there’s been no date four. And feeling like even more of a fool when my bank account is showing double digits because of this. (Ok, I might have exaggerated that last part. But you get the gist.)
I think I’m a good person. Least, I don’t think I’m that much of a bad person. But what I’m learning is that you don’t always have to prove that you’re a good person. You shouldn’t have to break your back bending over backwards for someone you’ve just met. You don’t need to feel obliged to go a million miles out of your way for them, either, because you’ll prove that in time.
I’m not saying that I’m not feeling happy, or excited, or intrigued in my present situation. As a matter of fact, I am. (‘Hi!’ to the mystery guy if you’re reading this! If you’ve made it down this far, then bloody well done. And if it’s not yet been enough to put you off, well then, maybe I know. Or you know. Just kidding…)
I know that would’ve been a great line to end on, but I can’t resist saying a couple more things. Like, is your heart meant to burn after the first date? Are you meant to be giddy and floppy and all-over-the-shop after the second? Where are my blue skies and tweeting birds, god dammit?
I love exhilaration. And as much as I moan about troubled sleeping, it’s outweighed by the high that comes with a life that’s being lived. I love the thrill of just going for it. I love the unknown, change, and anything new. But I think I’m also learning to love that there’s a part of my life that going 100mPh at just doesn’t serve.
IG threw something at me the other week which I’m going to have to try and quote from memory because I daren’t throw off my algorithm again. It went something like this:
‘People feel like butterflies are a good thing, but if you still have butterflies after the first few dates, it might not be a good thing. It could mean there’s anxiety or that you’re unsure of a situation. A good match is somebody that makes you feel calm and comfortable.’
Calm… If we’re being honest, I’m not the most calm person in the world. Especially not if you ask the guy (yep, still the same one as above) whose first date with me took off into a full-blown night out-out, ending in us both giving the performances of our lives in the karaoke bar we ended up in ‘till 3am. But I understand the calm sentiment. And it’s a sentiment I’m embracing, wholeheartedly.
Perhaps it was because the date itself was rather spontaneous. There wasn’t weeks of texting back-and-forth beforehand; I didn’t know what he’d had for breakfast that morning; I hadn’t asked him much about his job. I hadn’t had time to combine this stranger’s messages and photos and mould them into the personality of my ideal man. I didn’t scroll right down to the bottom of his Instagram to try and piece together his life. I quite simply just stepped onto the bus to go meet him for a drink to discover all of that in-person.
Whether or not having butterflies is a good thing, a bad thing, or just a thing, remains to be seen. Whether or not you meet ‘the one’ the first, second, or tenth time around doesn’t make them any less of ‘the one’ (at least at that particular time). Whether or not you agree or disagree with me here, like a lot of stuff to do with relationships and love, there’s no right or wrong answer. Thinking about it, I probably know more than I think. Least, I know that much. So maybe one day, I’ll know that I know that I know.
(And if I do, I’ll be bloody sure to write about it.)
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