Fuck Dating Rules, Because I’m Not Going To Follow Them

Three days ago, as we cuddled in his temporary bed, in his temporary room, in a temporary city, I couldn’t help but wonder where we were heading. People claim it’s not cool to ask relationship-defining questions before you have been seeing each other for at least a month or two.

But I’m too old for that. I have much better things to think about and better things to do than play catch with someone I already know I like.

 

“What’s your take on serious relationships?” I asked. 

“What do you mean?”

“Do you see us ever being in a relationship?”

“Haven’t thought much about that.”

“I eventually want to be in a relationship. So you should tell me if that’s something you do or don’t want from me.”

Two days later, my friends told me how I messed up, how I committed dating suicide. They proposed several tactics on how to get him back, like being hot and cold, fucking with his head, antagonizing him on social networks, posting hot pictures of myself on Instagram, and getting other guys to pretend they were chasing me.

But I wouldn’t do anything. I wanted to wait and give him the chance to digest what I’d said. I know there’s a chance he will disappear forever, move on, freak out, and assume that I’m mental. It’s okay, though. I roughly communicated what I wanted to communicate.

There’s no guarantee that my idea of the words ‘relationship‘ and ‘serious,’ are the same as his, but I do hope that if he is also interested in me, we will have the chance to clear this up, to negotiate terms and figure something out.

I am a mathematician. I hate having things undefined. I don’t need the definition to be ‘relationship.’ It could be ‘fuck buddies’ or ‘friends with benefits’ or anything – as long as it’s defined. I think it’s laziness, cowardice, or fear stopping everyone from showing their emotions. But in the long run, it does not minimize the potential for emotional pain.

All of my rational thinking only works up to a point, though. Every now and then, when I look at my phone and see no new messages, I reprimand myself. Maybe I should have waited longer to talk to him. Maybe I didn’t have to be so clear. Maybe I should have been more chill. But in the end, I know it is going to be fine, regardless of the outcome, so I’m glad I did it.

I don’t want to use playbook techniques to get with someone. I hope we can both rise above that mindset and communicate like humans, despite the latest trends suggesting we should be chill, flexible, and casual. Fuck that.