How long do you have to date someone before you can start calling them your girlfriend or boyfriend? Is it even something you have to worry about asking?

A few years ago, I dated a woman for five months. I started to think of her as my girlfriend. I wasn't seeing anyone else, and we spent a lot of time together. By the third month we would talk almost daily. Texts were exchanged throughout the day, evenings were spent eating together or cocooned on a couch watching television.

I wondered whether we had crossed some formal threshold without realizing it. I remember sitting on her couch one lazy night, we were watching television, a show I would have found tedious under any other circumstance, but watching it with her gave it a new bearable quality. "This is what I would be doing with my girlfriend on a Tuesday night," I thought to myself. "So are you my girlfriend now?"

The more I thought about the question, the less I cared about the answer. I wasn't seeing anybody else and I didn't feel the need to look any further. I felt content. I had someone to laugh with, someone to eat and drink with, and someone to curl up beside on the couch at the end of a stupid Tuesday night. I didn't care if she was seeing anyone else. It didn't seem like it, she never flaked on me or had excuses spilling out of her purse at inopportune moments.

Things were comfortable and convenient. It was so easy that I thought it might be better if she were seeing other people. It might have made things seem like less of a concession. Getting together with someone because it's easy is never good news. The longer we went without confronting that piece of semantic housekeeping, the easier it would be for me to leave when the comfort became too much. Three months later I was seeing someone else.

I asked a woman last year if she would be my girlfriend. Actually, I asked her if she'd be my girlfriend "for six weeks." We had been going out for a couple of weeks and I'd known she was moving away from the start. The finish line was set hard and fast up ahead. I didn't ask her because I wanted to know what she would say. It wasn't a question. I knew what we were together.

In the space of a few weeks she had become a bright new center of gravity. She wasn't comfortable or easy, but inevitable. When I got her texts at work they didn't feel like surprising reminders that she existed. It was, instead, like seeing a wave finally reach the shore after having watched it build and come in from out at sea.

When I asked her, I knew the answer already. It was a declaration, not a question. It was a confession. I want you to be my girlfriend.

It's an arbitrary label to apply to someone, and it doesn't really change what's between two people. Call it a banana, but a label doesn't add intimacy or security, it just alleviates the stress of worrying about what comes next. Calling someone your boyfriend or girlfriend is like coming in out of the rain. There's an instant feeling of relief and security, as if you've accomplished something and can now sit back and enjoy the fruits of romantic achievement.

 "Yes, I'll be your girlfriend for six weeks," she said, smiling in the dim bar light. It didn't change anything. It felt good to give an outward showing of how strong my feelings were. It was nice to see her smile because of it. That was all.

She left six weeks later. All I had left was a stupid placard with some old title on it, oxidizing with each passing minute.

 

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