Saturday, January 07, 2006

Chasing your tail

Everyone loves the chase. Don't lie. What isn't to love? You flirt up a storm, catch a hint of interest, and then try to manuever yourself into a relationship through an elaborate set of dropped hints and games. The chase means you can project the best version of you. The version that looks put together, is intelligent, and exudes that "I am a cool person" vibe.

Fast forward three months. You've had "the talk" and the two of you are dating. Should there be any games then? I'm not talking about something as obvious as playing hard to get, but what about little games. How often should you be talking on the phone? Should you always answer when he calls? Do you have standing plans at least one weekend night? If you consciously think about these things is that necessarily game playing? Does this game playing keep your relationship interesting and exciting?

Now I love the chase. I mean love it. It combines two of my favorite things: competition and flirting. I have often imagined what it would be like if there was a Competitive Flirting circuit.

"John, did you see that hair toss? Classic!"
"Whoa nelly, you can say that again. She has been using that move to great results, but let's see if she can incorporate that into her arsenal as smoothly as the drops her love of college football. That is where she gets the big points."

The chase is heady because everything is new and exciting and you get that fluttery tummy feeling that bad love songs are written about. For this reason, it took me a long time to have any desire to do anything besides the chase. But once I finally jumped that hurdle I recognized the chase for what it is: superficial. It's exciting and fun, but it's nothing compared to actually knowing how someone feels about you. Or feeling cute even when you're wearing sweatpants and your glasses. Comfort, stability, and the confidence to go out into the world knowing that someone is unequivocally on your side is much sexier and a hell of a lot more fun than 100 chases. (Ok, maybe not 100, but certainly 25).

Since when did I become such a romantic?

1 Comments:

Blogger BobtheBatmobile said...

Damn. You nailed it. When did we grow up?

5:30 PM  

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