Changing states of mind

"If you like someone, you don't mind getting two texts in a row from them."
"Either do it now, or do it tomorrow."
"I think just do it now. No games. You want to see him, so just ask."
"God, I haven't seen you like this before."

My mind was in a state of flux.

It had been that way since the minute I'd woken up and brushed the button to light up my phone, ostensibly to see the time, but also to see whether there had been any deliveries overnight. And there hadn't.

Panic had set in.

"So he wanted to see you last night..."
"Yes. But it was late and too far so I suggested this afternoon and now nothing. Nothing. All day."

The feeling of all rational thought taking leave was an alien one. It was unsettling to seemingly have so much time, so much energy to devote to just one thing, one person, one bloody phone screen.

The highs and lows were disrupting the nice, level minded constant I'd put time and effort into building up. It was disconcerting. I was going nuts.

Right. What would you advise someone else in this situation?

This was the question I'd asked myself earlier on the bus, as I'd stared out of the window and envisaged a future that contained both the perfect and worst case scenarios in quick, altering succession.

I'd say you can't assume to know the motives or thoughts of someone you've known for just a week. I'd say it's hormones. I'd say what do you really know about this person? I'd say not everyone treats their phone like the messiah.

But really, I needed rational advice. I needed the real talk, the science, not the irritating "how exciting! No, but this is exciting!" exclamations of those who have been in relationships too long to remember the fear, the terror, the crippling insecurity of having feelings for someone you've known for only a week.

I needed Google.

How to stop yourself feeling completely crazy when...

When what? When you've known someone a week? When you've had a spectacularly good first date?

...you're on Facebook
...you're on your period
...you're falling in love

Google's last autocomplete threw me, and I stared at the results warily before clicking onto what I considered to be the most reputable. And then I read.

"You are under the influence of your hormones that are making you feel, all at once, euphoric, endangered, and exhausted. You are adding a dating relationship to your normal, busy routine. This can make you more anxious than normal. This process can be threatening and make you feel unsafe."

Science out of the way, I needed the reassurance from my perennially single, tell it like it is friends. I needed two gay mates and a housemate.

"Yeah, it's horrible." they agreed, "Bloody awful, liking someone. The worst."
"I know, it's so much easier when you don't care."
"Urgh, I feel for you."

Finally, I thought. People who understand.

After a while and a beer I realised that while you can't know someone else, you can know yourself. You can know how to allay your own fears - even the most startling irrational ones - or at least set them on the road to recovery.

Knowing that I'd taken the adult route, the direct route, would mean that even in the event of a Non Reply, I would feel better for trying.

I typed.

"[Full name]. Are you still free on Monday?"

It sent. It delivered. It sat there, under my last message, making my screen into a field of green.

You've known him a week. You'll get over it. Plus if he loses interest this quickly there's clearly something else going on and you do not need a problem child. Nope.

And the weird thing was, I started to feel better.

An hour passed, then two, and the strange feeling in my chest was returning to normal.

"I don't think I'll hear from him again. I think that's it", I said, as my housemate and I walked home from the park, ready for a night in.

We were mid way through unpacking a bag of shopping when my phone, discarded and in disgrace on the kitchen counter, lit up with a message.

"For you? Yes. X"

And then I fell into a state of relief.