Unrequited Love Blog

I’ve been thinking of putting another post on this blog for a while, a sort of update on what’s been going on and how I’ve been feeling since July 2009, about a year ago when I made the “final” entry on the blog.

So, what’s changed? Well, for one thing I feel like more of an idiot.  I believe I was in love with Jessica, but I now take that set of feelings less seriously or less intensely.   The whole thing feels much more like something that happened to me in the past, and not something that is currently happening to me.  When I think about Jessica now, it’s the memory of love that I feel, rather than the experience of being in love.   And I was in love with her, but did not know her enough to love her.  I might have been able to love her, I certainly wanted to love her, but I didn’t have the opportunity to really love her.

Unrequited Love.  It’s just a bizarre, bizarre set of feelings.  Being in love feels like having a fever dream, during the most intense part of it everything seems much more vivid, colors more intense, feelings more acute, yet everything has a sense of unreality or surrealism to it at the same time.  I had vivid, intense, intrusive images and thoughts, almost like a PTSD reaction, but positive rather than negative in emotional tone.  My head was preoccupied with a ceaseless whirlwind of thoughts about Jessica all the time.  During the height of love’s intensity I felt love for many people around me, for strangers, for the world — it all spilled over from being in love.  But there was also a sharp edge of pain, of disappointment, that would rise up unexpectedly.  All the feelings just sort of rushed up in me and out of me, like I was picked up by a giant, invisible whirlwind, possessed by a djinn, then deposited on the side of road exhausted, depleted, and left with a lingering sense of grief.

Whatever this blog and the associated website say about me, they say.  If I seem obsessive, immature, pathetic, socially awkward or “off,” so be it.  I can’t take the whole blog back, and I really don’t want to.   I mean, I don’t really want to be perceived in those ways, it’s embarrassing, sometimes humiliating and shameful; but this blog IS a personal truth of mine, it’s pretty honest.  So if that’s who I am, it’s who I am.

I truly regret causing Jessica any discomfort, or creating any awkwardness between us, as we are bound to meet casually at some future point.  I truly regret making my feelings or attraction clear to her at all, it must have been weird and uncomfortable.  Most students don’t want professors to seem out of control around them , or seem overly vulnerable.  Students want to be able to rely on professors to set boundaries.  I regret asking her to deal with my feelings in any way, even though it was (I thought) relatively subtle and indirect.  But I also think that I must have wanted her to know, on some level.  I was so classically obvious in the last class — dilated pupils, stuttering, nervous, confused, agitated, weak in the knees — who wouldn’t see this as a declaration or at least display of love?  It seems my unconscious just took the choice away from me and showed my love despite my best intentions.  I don’t know why it happened to me, but it did feel out of my (conscious) control.  I don’t know why I would do this to myself — fall in love with a straight, engaged/married former student and drive myself crazy.  I mean, I know I did do it to myself on some level, and I don’t know why I felt the need to be so punishing.  Perhaps I needed to punish myself for seeking a divorce.  Or maybe I needed to fall in love with someone who I could love without taking any action, so I could try out whether I really wanted to end my marriage or not.

Regarding my divorce and life in general, I just feel overwhelmed — more than half my life is over and it’s not where I want it to be.  I wonder if I’m too old to try and start over, if I’m being (unbeknownst to myself) ridiculous in thinking I can date women in their 30s without looking, well, ridiculous.  I’m very overwhelmed with thinking of selling the house and moving out.  The market is terrible, I don’t want to lose money, but I don’t want to keep living there.  I’m painfully aware of every second I lose not being out dating, moving back to the city, crafting a new life.  Yet I believe I need to be in the best financial position possible to start dating.  Also, I can tell Spouse is hoping the split won’t happen, that I’ll change my mind, she says as much.  So, I’m being emotionally irresponsible by continuing to stay and/or not making clear and rapid moves toward changing the relationship.  And, still, am I making a bad decision?  I’m in a relationship where I’m loved, and I love Spouse in return — what more can I expect to find?  My continued decision to divorce is, at this point, based on feeling I simply cannot live with Spouse’s messiness, cannot live with her lack of motivation, feeling we don’t have enough common interests such as outdoor recreation or going out in general, and it would be nice to be in romantic love with someone who loved me back the same way.

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Just thought I’d share that I’m feeling sad again today. Depressed, really. I think it’s related to my upcoming divorce and feeling unattractive and alone. I’m thinking a little about Jessica and trying not to. I’m more aware she is likely starting a family, she will be pregnant any day now (if she’s hasn’t already had a baby) and really moving forward with her life, and I really need to not be thinking about her. Even my thinking about her feels intrusive (towards her, I mean).  I really need to not be thinking about a pregnant, married woman.

And I can feel depression on the heels of love, I can feel it coming. It’s partly wrapped up in not being able to be with or get to know Jessica, but bigger than that, too. The bone-weary, depleted, tears-in-my-throat sort of feeling of being disappointed in life, disappointed in myself, having the veils of self-delusion ripped away by reality. “What? Romance? Listen, you’re not that hot. Face it, you’re middle-aged. You really should of just kept what you had. You can’t afford a decent place in the city, anyway. Your dog is a huge problem (and certainly doesn’t win you friends). You’ll be poor and alone, instead of just poor.”

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As the weather improves, I’m thinking more about leaving my marriage — how to do so, what it will be like, and (still) is it the right decision? I cannot wait for a clean house with a dishwasher and Starbucks within walking distance.

But I’m also acutely aware of my age. I swear when I look in the mirror I look older every day (eye bags, fine wrinkles). I still feel fairly young, , like in my early to mid-thirties.  But my body doesn’t seem to match.  I’m thinking about the loss associated with aging.  Like, for years I have wanted to get a motorcycle, a cruiser-type like the Honda Rebel, but kept putting it off.  In my thirties riding a motorcycle would have made me look interesting; in my 40s, I would just look ridiculous.  I feel like the opportunity is past, and I’ve missed out.  I’m afraid the same thing is happening with dating and sex.  In my 20s and 30s, great, lots of opportunity.  In my 40s, not so much, I might have a difficult time dating women I find attractive.  I’ll be a little too old and my age won’t be balanced out by my income (I live a very middle-class existence, no expensive vacations to offer or dinners at 4 star restaurants).

Falling in love seems to be a natural process.  Meaning, it’s hard to force it with online dating or even with meeting others at thinly disguised singles events.  Romantic love seems to need the element of surprise amongst the ordinary, or at least it seems so for me.  I fall in love with people after I’ve observed them for a while, or gotten to know them a little bit in a natural setting such as work or the community.  Basically, I’m afraid I won’t fall in love again.  I might date, but I’m concerned I won’t be able to feel what I want to feel — that electric-buzz, gut-dropping, google-eyed excitement of wanting to merge with someone completely.

I’m still thinking about Jessica, feeling more angry at not having any chance with her.  Not angry with anyone in particular, including myself, just frustrated with the barriers to getting what I want. It’s actually amazing I’m still thinking about her and feeling deprived, sad, achey.  What if Jessica is the last woman I’ll ever fall in love with?  Will leaving my marriage, leaving my spouse, still be worth it?  Would I rather be alone than be with Spouse?  That’s really the question.  Right now, I feel I really want my own apartment, clean, with only one dog, in the city, the capacity to date and have sex.  But how long will I feel this way if I try to date only to be repeatedly rejected, come home to a lonely dog, and still very little money?

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I am so pissed Jessica changed her name. Why did she do that? Many to most women with educational levels of college grad or higher don’t do that, they keep their own name. It really upsets me. I’ve been thinking about it and wondering why this in particular upsets me, and here’s what I’ve come up with…

1. It makes her marriage more real to me (this is an obvious one).
2. I’m disappointed she took the more traditional path of changing her name.  Does she feel she has to absolutely merge identities with the guy?  What’s wrong with her name, what’s wrong with keeping her name?  Apparently, she has ploddingly conventional thoughts and beliefs (unfair and possibly untrue, but spite wins out for now)
3. It feels like the woman I knew (“Jessica Smith”) has died, leaving only this new woman (“Jessica Jones”) in her place, who kind of looks like Jessica but isn’t really the same person.  It makes her metaphorical death (as she transitions from single to married) much more real to me, my grief is stronger, my understanding that the Jessica I knew sort of no longer really exists.  There is actually a particular form of mental illness where the person believes those close to her have been somehow secretly replaced, like by robots or pod-people.  They look the same but are not the same.  It’s a relatively rare form of psychosis.  Anyway, I feel a little bit like that — even if (when) I see Jessica out in public, it won’t really be her, only her shell or ghost or something.  Well, many people have said love is a form of psychosis, like a mild delusional disorder.  Those of you who might tend to take things too literally — I am not psychotic, I do not really believe Jessica has been replaced by a stranger.  It just feels that way.

It feels like once a woman is married, she has crossed an invisible line.  Certainly from available to unavailable, that is straight-forward enough.  But it also feels like a married woman has crossed from freedom, independence, life, possibility, emotional expressiveness, to relative sedateness, conventionality, emotional control and containment.  In the best of marriages I don’t think this really happens this way, but most marriages take place without thinking too deeply about how their lives will change.  Mine certainly happened that way.  I didn’t think too deeply about how marriage would change my life, would change me. I just found myself living in the suburbs, financially strapped, bored, unhappy, and somehow “dead” inside despite having a loving wife, a reasonable house, dogs and cats I loved, supportive in-laws I loved…

Obviously I’m still thinking about her.  Not really crazy in love anymore, but I suppose a lot is still there.

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Romance aside, or dead-and-buried, a post-hoc analysis of why I might have fallen in love with Jessica, in particular, follows.

Much of it likely had to do with timing.  I am disappointed in my marriage, sexually and emotionally.  I am feeling my age, feeling bored and isolated, wanting to be young again and generally experiencing a mid-life crisis.  A mid-life crisis that includes grief about not having children, so I fall for someone who is still young enough to bear children.  My Spouse tends to disagree with many of my psychological explanations for people’s behavior, despite asking me for my informed opinion.  Jessica seemed to think I knew what I was talking about.  She seemed to admire me and see me as competent or impactful.  She kept staring at me sort of wistfully, it pulled soft, romantic feelings from me.  She offered an intimacy of communication, of psychological-mindedness, that resonated with me.  Her being heterosexually identified (as far as I know), the power of crafting a seduction story was very appealing.  The admiration and romantic pull  made for a heavy dose of strong sexual attraction.  All these things came together in a way that made me view Jessica, a perfectly ordinary person, in an extraordinary light.  This is what Tennov called the process of  “crystallization” in love or limerance.

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