I do enjoy talking about relationships. Of course I do. If I didn't enjoy discussing romantic relationships, there's absolutely no way I'd be writing this blog.
The main problem I have with talking about relationships in real life (that is, face to face - although not literally; I believe that is called a kiss, not that I've had any of them recently) is that I can flitter from brash to blasé to shy very quickly, but my default mode (you'll be astonished to hear) is shy. Yeah, I know. It's been remarked upon that, unless you get me to come out of my shell (and if you do, I can talk for Britain), I generally don't say much, and I go nervous, and slightly jumpy.
When I talk about relationships, I have a lot to say - naturally, for someone whose hobby is talking about relationships. But sometimes I can't say what I want. I just can't. I know what I want to say, but I don't want to hurt anyone. I don't want to tell anyone, "you are wrong."
Nobody's wrong, anyway. You can't classify things which stem from emotions, and love is one of those things - nay, the ultimate thing - that you can't set rules for. If you're in a relationship, you either set your own rules, or you don't set any, and see what happens. (Personally, I'd go for option B, but... whatever.)
So, in some ways, the things that I want to say to people go unsaid, because it's their relationship, not mine, and even if whatever I have to say is valid, if their mind is fixed on how to do something, I'm not going to change it, especially not if I speak with a nervous smile and a tone of voice which suggests that I'm uncertain.
What has this mindflow stemmed from? Well, last night, I spent hours talking to one of my best friends about a problem he's going through concerning an ex-girlfriend. (I won't go into details here, because for all I know he's reading this...)
So I gave him my advice, and in a few ways, I actually think I made a difference. I didn't change his opinion, but I worked with it, understood both sides, and tried to come to a certain point where he thought he could reach a conclusion. Okay, so it's entirely up to him, but I'm pretty sure I had a definite impact on what he ended up doing.
I went to bed slightly uneasy but feeling a little more confident about my knowledge of love.
And the rather worrying prospect that if I ever end up in a relationship again, I'll be far too kind - and unless I stay up until 2am every night to work towards getting my actual opinions out, I may be stuck as a slave to her every will.
But I'm sure you wouldn't mind that, would you, girls?