The Perfect Fit

When sometimes you feel that things aren't right in a relationship, you don't say a thing, and yet when things are fantastic, you cannot help but vocalize your feelings. I had to wonder, when we already know ourselves, who are we hiding our negative feelings from, and why?

BT say it's good to talk, and they're right. Prepare yourself for the worst, and then you will find that you care less about what you're about to tell Beloved, because deep down you know, if it's over, it's over.

In my case, in my most recent relationship, yes, a real actual relationship (I tell you all that I'm single to make myself appear more sexually available, may repeat in future), I had questions from day one. Before I properly got together with Beloved, it was the first official, third unofficial date. The "make or break" date. Dinner, pleasantries.

I told myself break. And then I couldn't help but ask myself, why do we feel the need to pigeonhole ourselves into dating one genre of girl or guy? What I'm saying is not 'you can't have a type', but if your type isn't working, does that mean you need to change your type, or indeed is it that you haven't found 'the one' within your type? We could analyse this to death, and perhaps, that is the real problem. We are so specific about finding the perfect fit.

We only have to look at the rest of our lives to realise this is true. Your morning coffee - applicable. Look at the menu in Starbucks - there is endless amounts of choice. Will you be having Grande or Tall? Full Fat or Non Fat? Caff or Decaff? And that's just the beginining.

Shopping for clothes - applicable. Whatever happened to sizes S, M & L, and their true meanings. Now we have XXS, XS, S, M, L, XXL, XXXL, and yet most are afraid to venture below S or beyond L. Eleanor Goggin, an Irish columnist, was in a hip Irish boutique when she emerged from the fitting room, contained a little too tightly in a size L top.

"Have you got this in a bigger size?", she asked the salesperson. "XXL, you mean", salesperson roared. Here we have a prime example of embarrassment and shame, because it is outside of the 'acceptable box', which when you think about it, isn't too far away from your Unsuitable Beloved according to your friends, who "know you better than anyone".

Maybe, like the 32" trousers on my 31" waist, some things don't fit perfectly, but it doesn't mean that you can't go on until you've either lost or gained an extra inch. And when you eventually do, I can tell you almost for sure, you still won't want to part with your Beloved.