I liken the start of a new Premiership season to that feeling your get with your first love. You know the one I mean. That special someone who, when you were together, was never off your mind. Sure she wasn't totally perfect but for the most part she was an inextricable part your life.
You lived through the highs and the lows, the giddy joy of true love and then one day, she inexplicably leaves you, running off with some handsome Spanish fellow down the road. You're gutted, inconsolable.
Yet like the person you are, you stiffen your resolve, wipe the tears from your eyes and decide to get back on the horse and move on. So you try to date other women, attempting desperately to fill that void in your heart.
You being by bucking up the courage to ask that continental girl from down the road if she fancies a drink sometime. You know the one - that dark haired bombshell who you always shot a cheeky glance at on a Wednesday evening down the pub.
To your surprise she's brilliant company and even more attractive close up. Such is the passion of the first few dates that you even start to forget about the girl who stole your heard in the first place. You feel like a new man and wonder if you're actually better off without her.
But this romance doesn't last long. After just twenty-two or so days she too has run off with a charming young Spanish man, despite saying when she met you that the Spanish never had a chance with her and always bottled it when it came to asking her out on a date.
So, lonely and heartbroken, you once again begin to long for your first love. The tales of your friends burgeoning relationships only makes you grow more nostalgic so, like any forlorn and directionless man, you stumble into the arms of as many women as possible, hoping those cheap, 90 -minute thrills will help you forget.
And, for a while they, do. But you can't help thinking that, all these women - some out of your league, some well below it - are a little too easy. Sure you're at your charming and entertaining best but in the end you're just killing time before you make that last gasp dramatic attempt to get back with that special someone.
You're pretty confident - optimistic even. You know she wants you back by now because she's got sick of her holiday romance and she's pining for you too. How do you know? Well she keeps sending you flirty texts messages and all your friends are talking about it - even your mum's getting excited at the thought that you two might get back together.
Then, on one glorious Saturday in August (the 16th in fact), she turns up on your doorstep and falls into your arms. All is forgiven, this is everything you've ever wanted and what you've been longing for all summer. And you know what it's going to be different this time, she promises.
Everything is just great. She's optimistic about the future and says she is ready to start afresh. She's also very impressed with some of the new moves you've learnt in her absence and more than a little delighted that your little man upfront has started scoring again. She doesn't even mind that, in a fit of rage, you sold the souvenir she bought you in Ireland on your first holiday.
(Though she might be less impressed if she knew you'd sold it to a Spanish looking scouse bloke with a dodgy beard)
So you both decide, to celebrate getting back together, you will go on a little trip and, slightly disappointingly, she chooses to go up north, to a place called Middlesbrough. Apparently she likes it up their because it's very quiet. So, to keep her happy, you agree, and prepare for the long coach journey to Teeside.
But you're nervous. This is the first big test of your relationship and although you performed really well with those other women, you're filled with self doubt. You know you have the wit and the charm to impress her but what about your moody streak and your apparent lack of backbone? What if it all starts to go wrong? You know how much you hate being on the defensive.
So despite all the hope and all the optimism, like the beginning of every new relationship you're equally anxious and nervous, feelings made all the worse when you know you've got to do it all again next year. That said, she did mention the possibility of touring Europe's biggest cities if things go really well, so perhaps there's really nothing to worry about. One day you might even buy her something shiny, if she's really lucky.