dating


honeymoon period: the time at the beginning of a romantic relationship marked by Utopian-like bliss

I fear the honeymoon period, for the same reason I will never try cocaine. It’s highly addictive.

Sometimes I long for the honeymoon period of a relationship, merely because the state of “falling in love” is so deliriously amazing. Kissing feels like a million little butterflies fluttering underneath your skin. Sex is a gluttonous feast of 3am and 3pm rampages – anytime, anyplace, anyhow. Your future is bright and endless with possibilities, and your job, your friends, your family, your life all seem to fade into a barely detectable backdrop of sights and sounds. Nothing else seems to exist and everything seems to levitate to new highs. Driving in the car, going to the grocery store, sitting on the couch watching TV on a Friday night all seem to be new sources of pleasure in the company of your fellow honeymooner.

Forget cocaine. Pass up the alcohol. Eschew gambling. Fall in love!

And then find yourself a good Honeymooners-anonymous support group. Why? Because with the honeymoon period comes a state of blindness (akin to a skark’s feeding frenzy, during which sharks either roll their eyes back into their head or a nictitating membrane closes over their eyes like an upside-down eyelid). During the honeymoon period, DO NOT:

  • move in together
  • make any large purchases together
  • go to Vegas and get married
  • get any tattoos with the other person’s name or picture

Wait the requisite 6 months for the honeymoon period to wear off, and if your love’s “quirky little traits” are still as endearing and little as ever, you can safely assume you’re operating with some sense of rationality.

soft landing: the act of avoiding breakup postmortem by seeking out another relationship prior to the termination of the known-to-be-doomed relationship

The soft landing is a mirage, one of those seemingly good solutions to an unpleasant experience that inevitably comes to bite the enactor in the ass. After attempting the soft landing myself and crashing with a cacaphonic thud, I now watch those who attempt it with the same silent pity as I do whenever I see a Jackass stunt performed.

My soft landing was a result of entering a relationship with my best guy friend (BGF). I knew it was destined for failure and yet I proceeded anyway: my BGF was unrelenting, the sex was amazing, and I loved him, in a best guy friend kind of way. Approximately (8) months passed between the time I started to contemplate a breakup and the day I ended things, which coincidentally was (2) days before I hooked up with the man I had spent the last (4) months flirting with at work.

My soft landing turned into a 3-year relationship that ended with several betrayals of trust (on both sides), a never-to-be-used prenup and a returned engagement ring amounting to the equivalent of a sizable down payment on a house, and me learning that the “easy way out” is never easy.

So two reasons to avoid the soft landing?

1) It’s not fair to the other person. Don’t drag him or her along while you search for the bigger and better deal in order to circumvent being alone or to continue the benefits you reap by staying in the relationship.

2) 9 times out of 10, people will soft land into a relationship that is a reaction to its predecessor. This is due to a lack of perspective and clarity, which only comes from having some time on your own to contemplate what you really want.

Bottom line, you want a soft landing? You’re better off playing seesaw with a bull.