Lol You Only Started Fucking 22 Days Ago You Have Absolutely No Idea What's Going On

Errrrrrm? On one hand: you’re both in that first desperate flush of this thing, the insatiable bit, the bit where every text message is like a jolt, every Instagram story gets a reply, the breathless bit, the memory of that night three weeks and one day ago where you both went to the theatre (weirdly?) then for Mexican food (who planned this date?) then stayed up until four running your tongues over each other until you collapsed, exhausted, in a nude sticky heap, but also you really thought they had plans tonight and now they are like “lol” and “hehe my mate dropped out so… would it be weird if we… did something?” and now you have to confront whether it is.

Is it? It’s not weird is it. If you assess this one honestly it feels like it has an energy special and unique, not like the last couple of relationships you had, better, bigger. You don’t really remember feeling like this. You keep talking about them in the pub until your mates actively ask you to stop. "Theirs is a mouth I’ll never get bored of spitting in" is actually something you said in a group chat this week. Is it… would it be weird to just, hang out? You want to hang out. It’d be nice to hang out. But suddenly the weight of the occasion – the love heart balloons, the Tesco roses, the squishy grey teddybears, the petals on the mattress – makes everything feel weird, somehow, wrong, like speaking aloud a secret that instantly shatters it. What do?