Certified

A good friend of mine once asked a guy who was breaking up with her if she had done everything in her power to save their fledgling relationship. Like most normal people, her future ex-boyfriend avoided such a direct question and said that he just wanted to move on.

She responded with, "But I need to certify that I've done everything I can."

Annoyed he replied, "Ok, fine. I certify that you've done everything you can. Can we get on with our lives now?"

I'm not sure if he said the second sentence, I'm embellishing, but he did say the certify part and that's the part I want to write about. (Aside: he was a bastard to say that, but it was the only way to get through to this friend of mine.)

It's funny how we girls over-analyze everything remotely related with romance and will accept nothing short of a "certification" when it comes to potential, current or former significant others. S., E., and D., have spent thousands of hours dissecting each sentence spoken by the guys they were dating. Every word. It was a treat to just listen to them.

"When he said that my top was cute, did he mean cute in a nice way, or cute in a slutty way?"

"When he said that he was thinking about marriage, did he mean a) marriage to me and b) within this year?"

"When he left the party early, does that mean that he doesn't find me interesting?"

I would respond to these questions in the most prudent, cautious way (without actually lying) but invariably, they will disagree with me, and ask the question again. And again. And then another time.

The entire exercise is very first year high school.

We're in our thirties.

I love it.

x x x

So last night (actually early this morning) I got certified. I now know something with certainty.

And it is liberating.