We are never ever EVER getting back together!

Does this sound familiar…

    "I'm sorry, this just isn't doing it for me anymore."
    "You're breaking up with me?"
    "Yeah… but don't worry, we can still be friends…"

What a load of crap. I'm ashamed to admit; I've used this lie so many times and a part of me wants it to be true. I want to believe that even though I've stopped making out with you, I still find your personality interesting enough to carry on platonic relationship with you. But the truth is, I just come to realise how boring and unfulfilling I find your conversation, and it makes me wonder how I ever got desperate enough to put up with it in the first place.

The truth is don't even try to be friends with someone after a breakup. Clearly they weren't good enough for you, so why waste any more time one them. Move on before more hurt is felt. You may be the one to initiate the breakup, but that doesn't mean you don't automatically give up your feelings for them. I still stalk my exes' Facebook pages and wallow in self pity as I watch them move on, even if the last time we spoke was in 1994. They could be a whole shed's worth of tool kit and yet a part of you will always be connected emotionally to them.

I'll admit, I am still friends with one guy that I've previously dated, but he is the exception to the rule. It has taken a lot of back and forth, on again off again, are we or aren't we, to get to this point where as he so kindly stated last week "It's nice to have a friend like you who I have no romantic attraction for." It was a little ouch to hear, but the truth is he is right. I'm not interested in pursuing him and for now this friendship thing is working out, but again I stress, EXCEPTION. NOT RULE.

Honestly, let go. Don't even bother trying to make it work as friends. Don't lie to the other person and tell them you want to be friends. It's silly. Unless you're end goal is to end up back in a relationship with them, in which case don't break up with them in the first place, ya crazy!

Twitterpated (adj.)

 Let's be clear; I don't hate relationships. I see their value and they can be fun. I would hate for people to start labelling me as the Scrooge of Togetherness, and to prove it, I wanted to write some thing nice.

I love the first moments of a crush. There is something so thrilling about limerence, something intoxicating that makes us do such foolish things.

limerence |ˈlimərəns| noun Psychology

the state of being infatuated or obsessed with another person, typically experienced involuntarily and characterized by a strong desire for reciprocation of one's feelings.

It's this sensation that keeps us awake at night wondering what that person is thinking, dreaming of the first kiss, planning names for children, trawling through every post and photo on Facebook, begging the Fates that they feel the same. No matter your age, it can make you feel like everyday is Christmas Eve. It can make you forget your basic human needs like food and sleep, because, as the Beatles taught us long ago; "all you need is love."

I can't tell you the number of times I have sent messages in the middle of the night, to my best friend half a world away that follow this blueprint;

    "So we have been talking all day. I wasn't even hungry today, and even after I spent ten minutes making lunch for myself, I only got through a single rice cracker with Vegemite and cream cheese before deciding I wasn't actually hungry… I can't calm myself down enough to turn off my lights for bed, and I'm imaging scenarios of us seeing each other again… and I'm shaking like a chihuahua and my tummy is all fluttery. Paige, I think I like this guy?"
     (accompanied by pictures like this)

Then she will say something like… "oooo yay!!", I'll talk about my plans to marry him. She keeps her thoughts of my insanity to her self… and then something terrible happens. Crippling self doubt sets in;

     "Am I playing it wrong? Creepy is the only way I know how to play!"

Paige says something to calm me down, my confidence comes back up to a billion and a quick succession of texts are sent from my phone;

    "SEE HOW PERFECT IT IS! I stretched out in a sweeping motion across the bed as I said that."
    "It was very Julie Andrews esque."
    "Paige! I wish I could marry you, it would be so much easier..."
    "That should have been a comma."
    "Why am I so amped up! Damn you baby making hormones making me into some kind of woman."

It really is such a magical time of life, and I hope you enjoy every thrilling moment of it. Just remember to not take yourself too seriously or you may end up regretting all the fun you missed out on.

twitterpated (adj.) 
    1942, apparently first attested in the Walt Disney movie "Bambi" (there also was a song by that name but it was not in the studio release of the film), a past participle adjective formed from twitter + pate (n.2) "head" (cf. flutterpated, 1894).

Thumper: Why are they acting that way?
Friend Owl: Why, don't you know? They're twitterpated.
Flower, Bambi, Thumper: Twitterpated?
Friend Owl: Yes. Nearly everybody gets twitterpated in the springtime. For example: You're walking along, minding your own business. You're looking neither to the left, nor to the right, when all of a sudden you run smack into a pretty face. Woo-woo! You begin to get weak in the knees. Your head's in a whirl. And then you feel light as a feather, and before you know it, you're walking on air. And then you know what? You're knocked for a loop, and you completely lose your head!
Thumper: Gosh, that's awful.

As an end note, was I not born to pose in front of a camera?! Look at little me, knee popped, one hand on my hip the other behind my head, watch out Marilyn Monroe there is a new blonde bombshell in town. Let me also add that I was only wearing undies beneath that minnie mouse apron… what a hoochie I was.

"Let's just keep this between you and me..."

I've been thinking a lot about relationships of late, I blame the copious amount of television I consume, and I've come to some realisations;

I think the most important one is the idea that a secret relationship is never romantic.

I once dated a guy who asked me to keep it on the down low, he didn't want to hurt the feelings of his ex who sadly wasn't over the breakup. He was worried that should she find out about me and unleash a whole can of crazy jealousy my way and he didn't want to see me get hurt. Of course I was so smitten with him that I would have done anything to keep such a sensitive and caring man. So according to Facebook, we never happened.

At first the intrigue of it all was exciting and I honestly didn't think too much about it, that is until lying douche told me about a teensy indiscretion of his. You see that ex of his had been barking up his tree, and well a dog is a dog, he couldn't say no. A year or so later when she finally heard about me she felt horrible and told me all about, saying she had no idea I even existed and if she had she would never have touched him and help him do to me, the exact thing he had done to her.

My next story involves a desperate me, lonely and depressed, looking for someone to fill the void. I'm not proud of this but it happens. I wanted to feel needed and I needed to feel wanted, so I looked for companionship from someone I usually wouldn't. My search was successful... in a manner of speaking. Sadly for this poor boy, I was the one keeping the relationship a secret. I was ashamed of him, and I know that sounds terrible, but it only helps to prove my point.

My third tale involves the two of us choosing to keep the fling a secret. To this day I still avoid mentioning anything about this, and believe this one I would love to brag about. The problem was, we snuck around for two weeks not wanting our families to know because we knew it was never going to go anywhere and we didn't want them getting in our business. It gave us an excuse to never talk about our feelings or what any of it meant.

This may not sound bad and actually a little fun, but trust me if it was good and harmless, then why would I still feel guilty years later. I don't feel guilty because I lowered my standards, I feel guilty because I knew it was a bad idea and I didn't listen to myself. The worst part of it all, when it ended, and I was hurt, I didn't have anyone I could talk to about it.

In short, what I realised is this. Keeping a relationship a secret is horrible. Trust me, there is nothing romantic about this notion. If someone asks you to keep things under wraps, they are either not serious about you, disgusted by you, or trying to tap everything in a skirt.

No good will ever come of it.