It’s a dish I used to love. The flavor, the satisfying feeling afterward.
And after all, food brings people together. Dishing about boy information is something my friends and I used to taste daily.
I’m not even sure guys understand what kind of details women share. What’s he like? How was the date? Can you believe that douchebag said that to me at the bar? And yes: how big was he?
But my friends, mostly in serious relationships, don’t dish anymore. Neither do I.
Now, it feels almost sacred. Kevin and I have our couple stuff. But it’s our own flavor of behavior, and a dish we do not share with others. In fact, when another couple serves too much of it in front of others, we question the appropriateness. Keep your cutsie stuff in your own kitchen, please.
Sometimes I miss the flavor of the dish. Really, I just miss the connection it gave me with my girlfriends.
And there is no way I’d trade in the blissful happiness Kevin and I have just for that taste. Bliss is an entirely different thing: a whole sweet, salty, savory meal.
Do you ever notice a shift in sharing when in a serious relationship?