Man Date

“We need to see other people.”

This phrase, when used in dating, is pretty much a death sentence.

It’s the passive aggressive way of saying, “There is someone I really want to see…and you’re not that person.”

When you’re married, it’s a whole new ballgame. It’s the realization that perhaps you should try to interact more with other people of your own gender.

That maybe one night out of your newfound comfort zone won’t kill you.

You know, like that Beyonce song: If you liked it then you should’ve put a ring on it, married it, isolated yourself with it, and watched DVR-ed shows in your pajamas with it (Oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh).

I say all this to say that Justin has a man-date tonight. Despite my encouragement to branch out and regardless of my complaints about potentially seeing Star Trek, I was surprisingly a little jealous when he told me he had found a guy friend to go see it with him.

I don’t get time travel. I don’t grasp space. I ask WAY too many questions if a movie even mentions galaxies.

So it’s for the best. This I know.

But there is just something so pathetic about being a newlywed. It’s not that you nauseatingly recite love sonnets to each other all evening. Or even talk all that much. Sometimes you pull more moves on your iPhone game than you do on the other person (I’m not condoning this, but it’s the truth, people).

For whatever reason, though, you lose track of your stunted social growth.

Then one day you start talking to another female and you Can’t. Shut. Up. It was like someone turned on my faucet and left it running, causing streams of too-much-information to flood the place.

“I’m sorry,” I said, “I just don’t really get to have girl talk all that often anymore.”

A bystander chimed in, “I can see that.” (Nobody asked you, lady).

I never understood why my married friends seemed to abandon all others. Now that I’m one of the nuptial hermits, I have realized that it is a slow, accidental progression more than it is a purposeful segregation. You’re comfortable. You’re tired. You don’t have to try to be entertaining. You have a sparkling reminder on your hand that they think you’re pretty cool.

But there comes a point when you will see other people. And it’s healthy. It’s a good thing. It’s a necessary thing.

And I can watch The Bachelorette and the Voice tonight and forego drink coasters all together (yep, that particular nag is flip-flopped in our family).

On second thought...

I think I’m starting to feel a little better…