Girls think too much. Fact. Where men who like football can have a regular post-match analysis about something that is largely inconsequential (there speaks a non-football fan), women have nothing to analyse except their own relationships. Which of course we do at great length and in great detail.
This is why self-help books about relationships are such bestsellers among women – men have their top ten lists, women have their theories. We like to apply a new school of thought onto our lives and use it to try and work out what on earth we should do or not do next.
It’s troublesome, all this thinking.
Then one day B* gave me the best piece of advice I have ever been given. I have passed this advice on, and been told by these girls too, that it’s the best piece of advice they’ve ever been given too.
Here it is:
For the first three months, don’t think.
B says, and she’s right, that in the first three months you’re supposed to be in a hazy fug of making out, holding hands, eating dinner, staring dreamily into one another’s eyes, finding the other person totally intriguing, humming to yourself and smiling for no reason. You cannot fully enjoy this blissful phase of pure infatuation if you are killing all the joy by trying to work out the hidden meaning in every text message you ever receive, the subtext of every conversation, the hidden depths in every casual gesture.
Why spoil it for yourself? After three months you’ll know whether you’re in love or not, you’ll know whether he’s uncommunicative, annoying or worse, a complete bandit, without even trying. So enjoy it before you realise he is all those things, and then make your mind up.
It’s the most liberating piece of advice ever. So here’s to taking things a day at a time.
* I’m giving credit fully where it’s due here after receiving a complaint from her in my comments that I didn’t credit her with the ‘when men do it it’s romantic, when women do it it’s creepy/needy/weird’ theory that I wrote about here. B’s favourite example of this is 500 Days of Summer, which I quite like, but which she can’t stand because if the tables were turned, it wouldn’t be a romantic comedy, but a horror film…