When did “dating” become “hanging out”? The concept has more or less ruined the last remaining crumbs of true courtship for us singletons. But pull these moves next time someone tries to “hang,” and you’ll come out on top.
As long as both parties keep an open line of communication and respect each other, I don’t see a problem with pseudo-dating. And don’t be afraid to let casual mean something, either. Since when did meaning something to someone become a bad thing?
I’ve tried talking to multiple boys pretending that they’re interchangeable, purposely ignoring the ones that make my pulse race for fear of getting close enough and, eventually, hurt. But I refuse to do this any longer.
Sure, sex in your bed is comfortable, cozy, private, and you can cuddle after, but you’ve probably had sex in your room 100 times.
While the idea of having the simple little black dress, the mix and match t-shirts and the perfect clutch purse sounds great, when I look into my closet, I find a fair share of unique and somewhat odd items.
They might not be for everyone, but the somewhat-string-attached relationship can really be a boon to one’s everyday existence, if done in a responsible and mature manner
You will evoke no negative, complicated feelings in them. They will never need to “get away” from you. You will never frustrate them or stress them out.
You know that bittersweet subtlety that only exists on an autumn mid-morning? That impossible-to-pinpoint scent that rides on the new crispness in the breeze? Does it tug nostalgically on your heartstrings like it does on mine?