Is it the time spent?

Is it the nuzzling?

Is it the constant on and off the phoning?

Is it the sex?

Is it the connection during sex?

Maybe it’s the texting?


Is it the negotiating of the hard things and working toward making them better?

Is it you knowing and remembering her favorite things?

Is it the mutual sharing of your lives?

I used to say three or more, folks, and you got yourself a relationship, dyke it or not.

Nowadays, we have more excuses for why we're not really in a relationship than we have for terms for our non-relationships.

I just got out of a relationship three and half years ago, and I’m still reeling — but we can still have sex, and I cleared out a drawer for you.

My cat has issues with change, but I’ll call you eight times today so that we can talk all about it. I want to know how you feel.

It’s too perfect what we have. We make love. I’ve met your family. You have keys to my apartment... I don’t want to ruin it with a title.

I’m still trying to clear out this family plan thing on my cell phones; our contract is for another two years. So I’ll be free for a relationship when it’s over — but I bought you some grapefruit juice and Cherry Garcia ice cream, and I’m totally on my way over sweetheart 'cause I know you had a bad day.

We call ourselves:

Seeing each other, we are “friends,” and you have to do the air quotes to make that one work. We are just dating, spending time — that’s actually all of your time when you’re not sleeping or peeing. We are friends with benefits — the benefits often include access to our hearts and our beds, despite what we may think.

And lately, my new favorite one is “hanging out.” What does that mean? Hanging out is something that I do with my friends. Sounds like we may hang out and shoot some hoops — and I don’t play hoops.

I had a little notification the other day about a friend's profile on MySpace. She had changed her status to "in a relationship." I thought, "Wow, she’s diving into this thing." I had spoken to her a month ago, and she said that she didn’t even want to hear the word "relationship" for at least three months. “I’m working on myself and my career.” When I called her to ask about the upgrade and why she hadn’t told me, she said, "It’s not what you think. It’s not that black and white."

“What do you mean 'it’s not that black and white'? Is she your girlfriend?”

She chirped, “It’s not that black and white.”

“Does she think that she’s your girlfriend?” I prodded.

“It’s not what you think.”

“It’s not about what I think. Has the word 'girlfriend' and 'you and I are' ever been uttered with the two of you in a room together or on the phone? Even in a text?”

“Yes, it’s been said.”

After about 20 minutes of semantics and cartwheels, we finally landed in the world of what I considered reality: She admitted to now having a girlfriend. I didn’t know if I should congratulate her or send her a consolation prize. She sounded a bit like it was something that she was pressured into from a need to make her new girlfriend happy and perhaps even stay. When I got off the phone with her, it occurred to me that maybe it’s not about the sexing and the texting and even just knowing of her favorite things. Maybe it’s not that black and white. Perhaps it’s about the intent in those things.