You’re in a Relationship, So Why Are You Acting Like an Apologetic Hotel Guest?

You are dating a man, so in theory you should be able to have the occasional feeling without issuing an apology first. And usually, it starts very innocently.

“Sorry, can I ask you something?”

Of course you can. You are dating the man. You are not interrupting him during delicate surgery.

Still, the apology slips out first, just to soften your arrival.

Sorry to mention this. Sorry to need that. Sorry, I know you are busy. Sorry, this is probably silly. Sorry, I was just wondering if we might occasionally see each other without my feeling as though I have requested a private audience with the king.

Before long, you are behaving less like someone in a relationship and more like an extremely polite guest at a very expensive hotel.

A beautiful hotel, naturally, with marble floors, an enormous bed and lovely little bottles in the bathroom. Yet somehow you are standing just inside the door whispering, I hope I’m not causing any trouble.

Madam.

You have a reservation.

Please Don’t Trouble Yourself on My Account

At first, you only apologize for the small things.

You would like to see him this weekend, but you know he has been busy, so really, only if it works for him.

You are a little hurt by something he said, but goodness, you do not want to make a fuss.

He has disappeared into his own life for several days, and when he finally resurfaces, somehow you are the one beginning with, “Sorry, I don’t want to sound needy…”

This is how you end up metaphorically calling reception because the shower has no hot water and opening with, “I’m so sorry to bother you.”

Bother them? You are standing in a towel while the water appears to have come straight from the Arctic. This seems like an entirely reasonable moment to mention it.

But no. You are the sort of guest who would rather quietly develop hypothermia than risk sounding demanding.

And once you start apologizing for the little things, the habit gets rather ambitious. You apologize for wanting affection, for asking what he meant, even for having feelings at inconvenient times—which is unfortunate because feelings have never been especially good at waiting for a convenient moment.

Soon you are sleeping on the very edge of the imaginary bed so the relationship has plenty of room.

There are six feet of mattress available.

You are using eleven inches.

Very considerate.

Somehow You Are Now Asking Permission to Use the Towels

Once you have been the apologetic guest for a while, even perfectly normal things start feeling unusually generous.

He calls when he said he would.

How lovely of him.

He makes plans in advance.

Wonderful.

He listens when something matters to you.

Five stars. Shall we alert the travel magazines?

Meanwhile, the things you want have somehow become terribly luxurious. Wanting him to be steady and reliable starts sounding extravagant. Asking for a little reassurance feels like ordering champagne at breakfast. Bringing up something that bothers you begins to require careful timing, a charming tone and possibly a handwritten note slipped discreetly under the door.

Before you say anything, you begin quietly editing yourself. That part can probably come out, this one should sound lighter, and maybe a smile would help. Then add “it’s fine” at the end, just in case anyone was beginning to suspect you had an actual opinion.

By now, the imaginary hotel staff must be baffled. You booked the suite, paid for the suite, were shown to the suite, and yet you keep wandering around asking whether you are allowed to sit on the sofa.

Yes.

That is why it is there.

And still, you hover.

You do not want to take up too much room, ask for too much, feel too much, want too much. Somewhere along the way, being lovable has become suspiciously similar to leaving absolutely no trace that you stayed.

Madam, You Are Allowed to Be Here

After a while, you finally look around the imaginary room and realize just how much effort you have put into being the easiest guest this hotel has ever had.

The extra pillows remain untouched because you did not want to ask for one, breakfast arrived wrong but you ate it anyway, and the room has been freezing for hours while you sit there beautifully wrapped in a blanket insisting everything is lovely.

And the minibar?

Absolutely untouched. You would hate anyone to think you had needs.

At some point, even the concierge would like a word.

Madam, with affection: why are you apologizing to the hotel for staying in the room you booked?

That is when the whole performance starts looking a little silly.

Once you stop behaving as though someone might knock on the door and ask you to leave, a lot of this starts looking wonderfully ordinary. A question can simply be a question. Something can bother you without requiring a beautifully prepared opening statement, and wanting closeness no longer has to sound like an unfortunate little habit you are trying to get under control.

And none of this requires storming through the lobby demanding rose petals and a grand piano.

You are simply no longer tiptoeing through your own stay.

So maybe you use the whole bed.

Maybe you ask for the hot water to work.

Maybe you even take the second towel without checking with anyone first.

Wild.

The hotel will survive.

The man will survive.

And if the relationship is worth staying in, it will survive you having a few needs in it too.