What the talking stage actually is (and how long it should last)

Three weeks. Three weeks of "morning x", of voice notes about his commute, of him sending you a dog and you sending him a better dog. You know his sister's name. You know he hates coriander.

You have not been on a date.

Your friend asks if you're seeing anyone and you say "sort of". You are in the talking stage, and nobody warned you it could go on this long.

What it actually is

The talking stage is the bit between the match and the thing. You're messaging most days. You might have met once, twice at a push. There's a clear vibe and no clear plan. Nobody's said what it is, because it isn't anything yet.

It's supposed to be a runway. You find out whether you can be bothered with each other, then you either take off or you don't. It has become, on the apps, a place where people live.

How long it should last

Honestly? Two weeks. A month if you're both genuinely busy or one of you is away.

That's enough to establish that he's funny, not a bot, not married, and can hold a conversation without sending you a photo of his gym progress. Anything beyond that isn't more information. It's just more messages.

If it's been six weeks and you've still not met, you're not talking. You're pen pals.

A talking stage with no date at the end of it is a hobby. His hobby, mostly. You're the podcast he listens to on the train.

The stages within the stage

Week one: the audition. Everyone's charming. He asks good questions. You answer them at length. You've both been on the apps long enough to know how to do this bit.

Week two: the pattern. You know when he texts and when he goes quiet. You've got a rhythm. This is where a date should appear, and if it does, congratulations, skip the rest of this article.

Week three: the drift. Messages get shorter or longer, but either way less specific. "How's your day" replaces the actual questions. You've said "we should do something soon" and he's said "yes definitely" and there is no date in anyone's diary.

Week four onwards: the fog. You're now emotionally invested in a man you've met once, in a Wetherspoons, for forty minutes. You can't leave because you've put so much in. This is the sunk cost of "morning x". Let it run another couple of months and you'll have drifted into situationship territory without ever having had a second date.

Working, or being kept warm?

Signs it's actually working: there's a date in the diary and he suggested it.

He remembers things. Not "how was your thing", but "how was the presentation with the scary woman from finance".

The messages are getting more specific over time, not vaguer. You're planning a real thing, in a real place, at a real time.

And, small but telling, he texts at normal hours. A man who only appears after 10pm has a daytime you're not in.

Signs you're being kept warm: the plan keeps nearly happening. "This week's mad, next week?" Next week arrives with a fresh excuse.

He asks nothing and answers everything. You're doing the interview and he's enjoying it.

He's chatty on the app and a ghost anywhere else. Won't give you his number, or has your number and never rings it.

You're one of several. You can tell, because the replies come in batches, like he's clearing his inbox.

None of this makes him a villain. It makes him someone who likes the runway more than the flying. You can stay if you like. Just know what you're on.

How to end it (in a good way)

Suggest a date. A specific one. "Thursday, 7, the wine bar by the station" beats "we should do something" every single time, because it can only be answered with yes, no or a counter-offer, and all three tell you what you need.

If it's yes, brilliant. If it's a counter-offer with a real day attached, also brilliant. If it's a vague "yeah defo, let me check", give it one more go and then stop replying. You'll be amazed how quickly a man finds a free evening when the good mornings stop.

The clever thing to do while you wait

Here's something nobody tells you about the talking stage: it's the perfect time to get tested.

You've got two weeks of nothing at stake. Nobody's at your door. Order a free kit, do it in your bathroom in ten minutes, get the text a few days later. By the time Thursday at the wine bar turns into something, you've already done the responsible bit and you never have to bring it up.

Better still, if he's done the same, you can see it. Get your green tick, put his number in, and if he's tested and clean you'll know before you've even split the bill. He'll never know you looked.

If you see nothing, well. You've got two more weeks of texting to drop it into conversation.

Get your green tick while he's still deciding on a day.