In addition to the lack of wrinkles, thin thighs, less a stray grey hair or two, the aspect I miss most about being younger is the simplicity of everything. In this case, what it took to be in a relationship.

In standard three, a guy from the back of the class would write me a note asking whether he could 'kiss me using his tongue behind the cricket pitch'. Simple.

Speeding ahead a few years to 16, the guy would ring your home phone (assuming this really was back in the dark ages) your father would pick up, and your teenage world would come clattering down in a torrent of angst.

Embarrassment aside and even still, the men would ask the appropriate questions, such as 'Would you go out with me?' which would define the difference of not having a boyfriend and actually having one.

Going steady versus a bout of sex

'Would you go out with me?' in 2009, essentially means, 'Would you care to join me at a restaurant and a bout of sex afterwards on Thursday?' Whereas 10 years ago, it meant 'Can we be exclusive, I'm asking because I'd like to be monogamous with you.'

Nowadays nobody asks anything. Not even the girls, who have been duly taught by self-help books alike, to stuff a piece of baguette into their mouths before imploring where they stand in a relationship.

Neediness isn't attractive, and most of us have duly taken note. At least we aspire to take note.

Guys don't set guidelines at our age (and by 'our age' I mean anything between 18 and 65), and we don't dare ask where we stand or where relationships are going — at least we won't if we actually care about having a long-term relationship with the guy in question.

If we don't care, we'll probably ask, because we subliminally feel like we have nothing to lose. Whether we know it or not.

Sailing along blindly

I mean, just look at Anne Hathaway. Sailing along for three years plus with a strapping olive-skinned man, savvy in business. Perhaps a bit too savvy, after he was imprisoned for fraud, I believe it was.

Perhaps she asked too soon: 'Baby, are you shagging anyone else? Are we, like, together?' And within the blink of a Latino eye, he turned his heel and barked, 'No, I see other women. And by the way, I've been tax evading for six years.'

When does life or age suddenly flick its own switch? And how come everything has to be so grey and hectic, when it comes to delivering a monogamous commitment to someone?

Asking someone to be your girlfriend seems out of the question, yet asking someone to marry them is a huge friggin' deal, that involves months of planning and ring co-ordination. It just doesn't make a load of sense.

I remember the week after I met my first serious boyfriend. For that week we messed around, and before the eternally tormenting question started bubbling beneath the surface, he asked those unforgettable (teenage) words: 'So... will you be my girlfriend? Like proper girlfriend?'

If a 40-year-old were to say that phrase to me, I wouldn't recoil — I'd throw my arms around him and give him a blowjob. Perhaps the damsels out there would disagree, on more accounts than one, but I can bet you a Plett houseboat that if you were, say, Annette Bening, you wouldn't say no to Warren Beatty asking you out.

For one, Annette is a talented yet over-the-hill actress, and Warren Beatty has been with every woman in America. I'm guessing she didn't mind when he asked (to be exclusive with her). Or did he even?

Maybe it just happened. Or maybe girls like me should date men in their late teens. Say it isn't so.

Do you remember when relationships were simpler? Leave your comment below.

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