I'm sure everyone of you out there has said/heard someone say this.
This post was inspired by my friend, S, the complicated one at Michigan, but is directed towards every woman on this planet.
I don't know what it is about the way our brain works, really. How something as insignificant as a single message can totally turn our day around and change our entire outlook of life. And that message may range from a 600 characters message to a message containing a single, 'Hi'!
Fine, lets put messages aside. A missed call itself has the power to do the outlook changing part! Its absurd, really, the speed at which our brains work in such situations. I really don't know where such massive doses of (stoned) endorphins are stored! And ALL this is brought about by a single entity.
There might be a World War raging, or an hurricane looming around the corner, but when the aforementioned message makes an appearance, all we can think is, 'HE messaged!!', and turn giddy with joy! And, oh my God, the psychoanalysis that's involved in replying! We really might be the next Marie Curie or Condoleezza Rice, or the female version of Cicero, otherwise. But the number of 'what will he think?', and 'what should I say?', and the 'what should I say SO he thinks that?,' is crazy! And if the object of our attention is around, there, wait-for-it, THERE! The rapid transformation into the fifteen year old school girl.
And we hate it. We hate the naivety. At the moment we obviously wouldn't realize it, what with the excessive hormone rush, but the moment 'the moment' passes, that's when it comes. This time, the questions are replaced by, 'what was I thinking?,' 'how could I have been so stupid?,' and 'Man, I wish I could take all that back!!' And then that moment lasts for longer, much longer. And after all that, for the next thirty days or so, we enter the passive phase, where there's no hurt, no regret, no joy, no bliss. Just blah.
And then enters same boy/different boy. Begins: infinite loop.
But then again, its the little joys and the cheap thrills, right?