There is something quite exhausting about being in love with potential.
Personally, I can’t. Maybe once, a long time ago…but not in the grand year of 2026..
Because whatever you are dealing with is not love, exactly. It’s neither a commitment nor a defined situation. Just potential; the fragile, flickering possibility that this person texting you good morning might one day become yours (sic).
Abracadabra, ladies and gentlemen.
Welcome to the talking stage: modern romance’s most confusing invention.
On paper, it sounds harmless. Because truly, what could possibly go wrong? It’s just two strangers getting to know each other. No pressure, no labels. Just vibes. In reality though, the talking stage often feels more emotionally draining than the relationship that might eventually follow. Because unlike a relationship, it operates without structure. There is no clarity, and no guarantees. “Let’s go with the flow,” is what.
In an actual relationship, there is at least some agreement about what you are to each other. You might argue, negotiate boundaries and learn each other’s flaws. But there is a shared understanding that you are building something together. You know what you are in it for. Meanwhile in the talking stage, you are building on fog. You don’t know if you are exclusive. You don’t know if they are entertaining other options. You don’t know if this is heading somewhere or if you are simply a placeholder until something “better” arrives. And so, instead of relaxing into connection, you live in quiet hypervigilance. In simpler terms, paranoia.
You start measuring interest in response times. Five minutes is enthusiasm. Two hours is suspicious. “Seen” without reply feels like betrayal, even though technically, no promises have been made.
You start rereading messages for tone. What did I miss the first time? You analyze punctuation and debate whether sending another text makes you clingy or confident. Haha. In a relationship, misunderstandings lead to conversations. In the talking stage, they lead to overthinking scenarios conducted entirely in your own head. Jumping into conclusions become a hobby.
This is where performance becomes king. During this phase you are being evaluated and you know it. And because you want to appear interesting but not intimidating, or, most importantly, available but not desperate, you subconsciously (or maybe fully aware) begin to morph into what you think the other party expects of you. You hold back certain opinions. You pretend you are less invested than you actually are. It becomes less about authentic connection and more about strategic positioning.
The truth is, everyone gives their best version during a talking stage. And that’s just me being polite, because I’d rather not say everyone gives their fakest version.
Ironically, the relationship that may follow often feels easier because the audition ends. You are no longer trying to secure the role. Now you are playing it. There is room to be tired, to disagree, to be imperfect. You can express needs without fearing immediate disappearance. The talking stage, by contrast, feels like walking on emotional eggshells. One “wrong” move and the entire thing could dissolve into silence.
And silence is the other reason it feels so heavy. Relationships usually end with conversations (difficult ones, yes,) but conversations nonetheless. The talking stage can end with nothing. A true waste of time, if you may. A final message that is never answered. Ghosting has become so normalized that many people enter the talking stage already bracing for abandonment. (We are the generation with abandonment issues. Either that or this, but always something, sigh.) You try not to care too much, not because you are indifferent, but because you are protecting yourself from vanishing without explanation.
There is also the subtle pressure of modern dating culture, where options seem infinite. Because of social media and dating apps, romance is now so easy to come by. Even while you are talking to someone consistently, you know (and so do they) that other conversations are happening somewhere in the background. You are not just connecting; you are competing. That underlying awareness creates instability. In a committed relationship, options are intentionally closed off. In the talking stage, every door remains slightly open, and that openness feels less like freedom and more like insecurity.
Perhaps the deepest stress, however, comes from the imbalance between emotion and security. Feelings do not wait for official titles. You begin to care before you are allowed to claim anything. You learn their routines, their humor, their childhood stories. You start imagining them in your future in small, quiet ways. Yet there is no mutual declaration protecting those emotions. You are investing in something that might never exist beyond possibility.
The probability of it being one sided is very much high.
It is emotional labor without emotional insurance.
A relationship says, “We are choosing each other.”
The talking stage says, “I am considering you.”
And being considered is far more nerve wracking than being chosen.
Personally, if a talking stage feels like a battle field where I cannot be myself, if I have to constantly double check my actions and words, if – and this is important – I can sleep comfortably without speaking to you and not wake upin the middle of the night feeling like something is terribly wrong – then it is not for me. And yes, I am a terrible romantic like that.
