Relationships are complicated beasts. And by 'complicated', imagine if a Chupacabra mated with a Liger who is the half-brother of a Minotaur and the cousin of a Unicorn. Only about ten times *more* complicated. For one, you're not only dealing with the issues that you bring into the relationship – and trust me, honey, you're bringin' some – but you're also dealing with the other person's. And sometimes the other person's FORMER person's (and often, former people). It's a mashup of the ghosts of relationships past, and it ain't pretty.
And yet we continue to put ourselves through this; mainly, I suppose, because we still buy into the hope that it's worth it. That the games and the drama, however strongly avoided, will one day be a distant memory, faded by time and experience and the success when "it all works out." Maybe. We hope.
Somehow we still have to maintain a sense of humor about it all; that is, when the wounds aren't fresh and nobody's repeatedly pouring epic-sized bottles of salt into them. Relationships are funny, amusing, often hilarious entities. They keep us on our toes, and in retrospect, give us writers more material by the reality of the ridiculous situations than would months of brainstorming intricate plots. The nuance is hopefully recorded – somewhere, anywhere – and written about when some time has passed and the anger has finally started to abate. When the hurt just doesn't seem so important anymore. When we remember that each relationship we enter into is there to teach us something that we'll take into the next.
Such as: listening to yourself, and your concerns, and not letting your friends talk you into a relationship.
Such as: trusting your intuition.
Such as: realizing that if you're choose to watch Gossip Girl over making out with your new beau, you've got a much bigger problem than trying to decide who's hotter: Chuck Bass or Nate Archibold.
Because really, we all know it's Nate, hands down.