Let's be real about date night, it's the end of romance. Even when it shouldn't be.
Let's be real about date night, it's the end of romance. Even when it shouldn't be.

Let’s be real about date night, it’s the end of romance. Even when it shouldn’t be.

When newly in love, there is no need for “date night”. Every conversation sipping frothy cappuccino, every stroll hand-in-hand by riverside, even mundane tasks like grocery shopping, are infused with romance and the promise of eroticism. Will he or won’t he touch me? Does he feel the heat between us? Could he ever, possibly, be mine?

The dance of courtship, of longing, new discoveries and sexual obsession, is what scientists refer to as limerence—falling in love. During the first months or years of a romance, sexual desire peaks, not only because we’re getting to know the most darling, amazing, person on earth, but because of the chemicals—dopamine, noradrenaline and testosterone—that surge through our bodies.

But, friends, love like this doesn’t last; it’s not meant to. If humans were in a constant state of falling in love, civilisation would be in ruin. Who would ever show up at work? Let’s stay in bed instead…

For those of us less enchanted, we laboriously pull out “date night” in an attempt to salvage even the tiniest inkling of goodwill. We are trying to like each other, forget bang each other.

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