Photo Courtesy of Dominique Beltran

The butterflies in your stomach before a knock on the door, the insistence that you pay for whatever movie the both of you go to see and checking your phone every five seconds to see if you got a text, all fall into the beginning stages of a blossoming relationship best known as “the honeymoon phase.”

I personally view the honeymoon phase as an hourglass of doom, allowing sand to determine the anxiety of time that follows after the honeymoon phase is over. Then what? Because my time in this phase, according to societal standards, is hypothetically up, I am all of a sudden supposed to be robbed of the butterflies that Alicia Keys talks about in her famous song “You Don’t Know My Name.”

I’m talking about after she made the first move, their first kiss at the park that happened on a Thursday and “set her soul on fire.” Where do the embers of that fire go and who said they have to leave? According to people in my social circle, the average honeymoon phase (college specific) lasts anywhere from 2-3 months, and with that comes becoming so comfortable around a person that the “spark” can fade.

I’ve never seen the problem here, but now I see it clearly: time. One person’s experience shouldn’t define another’s and someone’s six months could be another person’s lifetime. I’m a strong believer in butterflies forever when stumbling across the right person. I guess that makes me a hopeless romantic.

Basically, to hell with a honeymoon phase. Do you.

For my early 2000 era Alicia Keys Fans,


Big Sis

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