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Don’t worry about it. Unless, of course, you have to.”
A friend of mine told me that about a year ago, and I’ve been living my life by that creed since. It sums up every relationship you and I have ever had with a girl. When I get together with friends, we talk about girls almost exclusively. Some sports talk will get sprinkled in there. Maybe a comment or two about the state of the nation. Some light ribbing about that abortion of a t-shirt your buddy is wearing. But it always comes back to women. The ones we’ve slept with, the ones we want to sleep with, and the ones that got away.
I can’t tell you for certain, but in my mind the bulk of any conversation going on between two women usually revolves around who they’re dating, who they’re hooking up with, and who they want to hook up with. Am I wrong on this? Maybe I’m just stupid. Maybe when girls get together they talk politics, but until a girl tells me different I’m assuming all they do is talk about guys. Well, that and giving each other faux compliments on one another’s figures and clothing choices. It’s a hunch, but hear me out. When a group of two or more women convene somewhere (whether it’s in a coffee shop, a group chat, or that oyster restaurant that doesn’t serve drinks under twelve dollars a pop) there is one phrase that is regurgitated verbatim:
“Are you guys talking?”
It’s ambiguous and transparent at the same time. It represents a woman perfectly. Confusing, mysterious, vague. Women confuse me. Shocker, I know. It’s a phrase pretty much exclusively used during a girls lunch. A pow-wow where friends of the female variety catch up on one another’s personal lives. It’s code. But what does that mean?
“Are you talking?”
It’s fun to say isn’t it?
I’ll tell you what it means- “are you guys talking?” means you’re fucking someone and now considering a dive into becoming exclusive. But it’s never as easy as just saying that she wants to be in a relationship. She weighs the pros and cons heavily in her head. So how does she convey this to her friend?
“I mean, yeah. We’re talking. But he’s annoying me right now and I don’t know why.”
She’ll say this as she sips her glass of Rosé and the girl (s) sitting adjacent her person will nod and silently compare their love lives to what they’ve just heard. Are you confused yet? Good, because so am I.
“Talking” to a girl is a high wire balancing act. The male, the pursuer, is a mushroom. It’s fed bullshit and kept in the dark by the woman, who holds all of the trump cards. On any given day you can be option number one or option number twenty. It’s about feel, but what do you do when you don’t have feel? I sure as hell don’t have it. I’ve got the intuition of a seven-year-old. If something feels right, then it must be right, right? Wrong. So, so wrong.
You won’t know where you stand with a girl until you know. She’ll let you know, but to assume that you’re in is a fools errand. It sucks, but you have to accept it. Following generalized dating rules are stupid, but people follow them because that shit works. She wants you to text her, but not too much. She wants to hang out with you, but she also wants you to leave her the fuck alone.
If that seems confusing it’s because it is confusing. I can only speak from personal experience, but what I do know is that girls are unsure of what they want. I know that isn’t groundbreaking news, and I know that I’m not Mel Gibson in “What Women Want.” I’ve dated girls before and they’ve told me as much. In the past, girls I’ve hooked up with or dated will confide certain things to me after a grace period. She’ll tell me that during conversations with friends I’m annoying her, but three hours later she’s lying in bed with me laughing.
I know this probably reads as a jumbled mess. A halfway coherent thought about the state of women in 2016. But dating is jumbled mess. I try my best to not be annoying. I don’t wait three days after getting a girl’s number to ask her out. Maybe I should stop asking so-and-so to hang out so much. But I’m not going to do any of these things. I’m not worried about it right now. I’ll worry about if I have to, but for now I don’t have to do a damn thing except see if she’s still up for grabbing a bite later. What I’m really trying to tell you is this: Don’t worry about it. Unless, of course, you have to. .