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WILSHERE: So, what are we?

The text lingers on the tips of your fingers. The conversation is going well, but there is something you’d like to say, a small sentiment waiting in the back of your mind to be vocalized.

“So, what are we?” are the words you want to type.

This has been the dreaded conversation that seems to have a black mark on it, with many millennials choosing to actively avoid it. This is one of the conversations that can either make or break your “relationship,” or however you choose to refer to it.

You almost hit send, but you feel yourself deleting the words, and without easing your mind, you slip back into causal ambiguity. They make a joke, and you respond with a sly, “Haha, right?” avoiding any form of confrontation or a move that would show your feelings.

You’re torn, but don’t want to make the first move. You want answers, but you don’t want to be viewed as “too emotional” or be the one that ruins the “chill vibes.”

So what do you do? Do you wait, hoping with a promise in your heart and a kiss on your lips that everything will work the way it’s supposed to? Do you entertain those you’ve made promises to, before the hurricane disguised as a boy came back into your life?

I have found that I can have difficult conversations as long as they’re the conversations I want to have. Airing past grievances, retaliating past feelings and repeatedly asking my mom for a dog are all conversations that I have had. A “what are we?” conversation seems insatiable.

Do you resolve to do nothing, as if to keep the leverage you’ve gained turning a relationship into a game of chess, waiting for the other player to make a move before you do? Or do you sacrifice your queen in an attempt to bare all feelings and lose your leverage, only to gain either closure or openness?

The truth is, I can’t say there is a clear answer. There is no formula where you can input feelings for someone, multiply that by the amount of time spent together, divide that by time spent apart and get a nicely rounded number of the amount of times you should contact them so they won’t forget about you.

I have avoided confronting my feelings in an attempt at — my definition of — “self-preservation.” But in this act of self-preservation, I have lost nothing, so I have gained nothing. By protecting myself from possible hurt, I protect myself from taking risks and opening up. By doing nothing, I tiptoe a line of sweet ignorance while also not fulfilling my insatiable imagination with the question, “What could we be?”

Relationships are not about knowing the right answers. I can’t say, with all confidence, that I have ever known what to do, when to do it or even what to say. I make an abundant number of spelling mistakes whenever I’m attempting to send a “flirty” text, and I’m quick to get embarrassed and throw my phone across the room when I re-read these texts.

I go into panic mode when a boy doesn’t respond to a risky text that I sent or to a Snapchat where I look cute. I am not, by any definition of the word, perfect. Nor do I know all the answers.

In relationships — as seems to be the case in every single science class I’ve taken —it’s not about the answers, but how you got them. Whether denied or accepted, whether rejected or loved, the process of how you got that answer is important.

However scary opening ourselves up to another human being may be, it is an important part of our lives. Sometimes we need rejection to learn to grow. Sometimes we need to have the hard conversations, even if to just prove to ourselves that we can.

We have to be kinder to ourselves when it comes to navigating through all the mishaps and questions that arise in relationships. We should be allowed to make mistakes and forgive ourselves for doing so.

We need to hurt to heal. We need to be open and honest with our partners and ourselves. I implore you — let’s put us out there. Let’s define this.

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Meredith loves telling stories and pretending to be Carrie Bradshaw, minus the man and comfy NYC apartment. She, however, eats enough brunch to cover all six seasons. When she's not drowning in 16th-century literature, she can be found lamenting over the bad grammar and bad boys in her middle school diary.
Find her on twitter @merewilsh or email her mwilsher@bu.edu with all your love musings or questions.

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