Untouched.

Sitting in an English garden waiting for the sun...if the sun don't come you get a tan from standing in the English rain.

If people didn't date, they'd learn interesting things. They'd learn that no matter who their friends are, or on what level of intimacy they hold said friends, that other people will date. They'd learn that in a fascinating and completely unbiased cycle, friends will date other people and ignore you for a time while they're otherwise engaged.

This doesn't make me angry or feel like I've been betrayed. Really, it doesn't. It's the natural way of things and the way it's supposed to be. When you take a relationship to a deeper level you're supposed to spend every waking minute with them, thinking of them, talking about them, or wishing someone else would bring them up so you could talk about them some more. You are, after all, trying to figure out if you'd like to build the rest of your life with that person. I think that merits a little exclusion of all unnecessary factors.

The most fascinating part of this cycle is when (or if, as "the end" is not always the case) the relationship ends. I can always tell. Friends I haven't spoken to in years save on Christmas and my birthday will suddenly contact me and want to talk or meet up or hang out or whatever. And I know just from talking with them, even if the subject is never approached, that things are ending. You can just tell. It's one of the things you learn. And then a few weeks or months down the road, it does end. And suddenly, I'm in the circle again. I'm contacted more and more frequently. I'm remembered. Until the next one comes along.

And in that case, I sit and wait again, observing, tucking away little pieces of knowledge for future reference and hoping that this time, it all works out, even if it means you'll stop coming back. Because one day, it will be my turn and I'd want you to wish the same for me.