Sometimes it happens. Sometimes “it” happens. That weird limbo of devoting time and energy into what would generally constitute a relationship, but then turning around and affirming “we’re not actually together.” It’s that weird line between a relationship and a thing, between commitment and frivolity. Yeah, straddling that line is fun. You derive a certain entertainment that encompasses leisure and your inner 15-year-old hormones. There’s a lot more laughter. But we know, relationships exist for a reason. Relationships equate stability, and so “fun” fades, maybe not for all, but for some. For some, stability is the end goal. So this strange-but-not-uncommon limbo can, at some point, go up in flames. Literally, it can feel a lot like a personal hell. Welcome to this sort of world that seemingly revolves around over-thinking. And, specifically observing the majority, no one apparently wants to be the first to talk about “what we are.”

No one wants to broach the “What are we?” dialogue because, well, because…because things change. The dynamic is altered: you cannot unsay and you cannot unhear. And once all your cards are on the table, once you’ve shown your hand, you are vulnerable. And that’s scary, goddammit!

Sometimes trysts are fun. They’re risky, unpredictable, a little wild. Trysts are, well, sexy. But here’s sort of the problem. After a while this limbo, this semi-commitment, this semi-“I like you, we just haven’t used those specific words” might feel like a tryst, a secret. The problem with that is maybe you’re proud to stand beside your person, your type of Cary Grant/Audrey Hepburn; so proud that you want to publicly proclaim that “Yes! We are actually a thing!” So, what about this: maybe you two are on the same page. It’s ok to be that hopeful. It’s ok to hope so much that you become that vulnerable.

Sometimes all this wondering, all this simple curiosity defining “what we are” is just really tiring. Sometimes you just want to sprawl out on the couch, throw out your arms, maintain eye contact with your person, and just sigh, “What on earth are we?” Because you’ve been lingering in limbo and in your mind’s personal hell for just a little too long.

And you know what? Sometimes you just gotta sigh or blurt or jumble it out. Sometimes it’s so relieving to show your cards, show what your page is. Because maybe that other person’s page is the same as yours. And then you get to laugh a “Wow, I cannot believe I was debating over what everything meant for so long” laugh. Yet another aspect, a real aspect, a vulnerable aspect, is that your cards, your pages are different. But you know what? That’s relieving too. Because now you no longer have to wonder; now you can know. And if you’re ok with not being on the same page, why make this weird? Who really cares besides you two who are in this, literally, together? Get out of your own head. Under-think, not over-think. And if it’s too weird, well, then you had a great thing, a solid tryst. You’ve grown from it. Whether you are on the same page or not, you probably gave and received a lot that you would have missed if you didn’t share your life with one another. It’s a good story.