Note: As always, don't forget to follow my journey on my personal blog, So about what I said...
Oh, those five seemingly innocuous words that, once uttered, swing open Pandora's Box and unleash an unrelenting firestorm of emotions: Fear, tears, laughter, red-faced embarrassment, confusion, more red-faced embarrassment.
In fact, next to that other five-word phrase ("It's not you, it's me"), there's nothing so jolting or surprising in the language of love. It's the perfect ice breaker (or fire-starter) for having "that" conversation. It even works for those love scenes and other high-stakes story arcs in movies - a character (man or woman; I don't discriminate here) quietly approaches another character (man or woman; again, I'm all equal-opportunity here) looking scared and unsure while the background music starts to surge. Those five words are spoken - maybe on a rainy street corner, in a quiet bistro or even in the office (YIKES!) – and amidst the stuttering and fidgeting, the smoky air is cleared. Just like that.
So how and when would a "So about what I said..." conversation come into play in real life? You see, I’m sort of an expert in this territory. More often than not, I either say the wrong thing at the wrong time (and in lots of cases, this scenario translates seamlessly to email interactions as well) or say the worst thing at the worst possible time. Ever. So what do I mean exactly? Funny you should ask….
You drunk-dialed (or spontaneously emailed) your ex (or a guy you just shouldn’t be emailing…): OUCH. Looks like that night out on the town with your gal pals didn't end exactly how you thought it would. Not that I endorse drinking (I advise against it, actually), but it does have a way of lowering your inhibitions, allowing you to do things and say things and maybe even break things you wouldn't do, say or break were you of sober mind. Another dangerous side effect? It allows you to view your love life through rose-colored goggles. You start to remember the time your ex made you chicken soup and layed in bed with you all day when you had the flu, or the time he serenaded you at work on your six-month anniversary. These memories, then, naturally lead to that voicemail message at 2 a.m.: "I miss you. Remember all the good times we had? I pretend I'm over you, but I'm so in love with you, it hurts." The morning comes, you're sober and somber and seeing things a bit more clearly.
SAY THIS: So about what I said. I was drunk. I'm not anymore. You were a loser. You still are.
You told your guy friend you hate his girlfriend: No one likes to be a third wheel, but who wants to go to the movies with your guy friend and his girlfriend (awkward much?). You. Just. Hate. Her. Okay, perhaps she's a very nice person, but does she always have to be nibbling his ear? It's just annoying. So you blurt it out, he storms out and you haven't seen him since.
SAY THIS: So about what I said. I don't hate your girlfriend. I just miss you, and we never get to hang out anymore. I don't even feel like I'm a part of your life anymore, not like things used to be.