I’m thinking this will be my final post on this blog. It seems a good day for it, I have a sore throat and a fever so I’m kind of out of it and have more distance on everything.
What to say? Jessica just feels so far away from me now. She’s probably had kids or will be having them shortly, probably has moved, is surely further along in her career. I still think about her and miss her but I can’t continue to focus on her.
So what has it all meant? It was very difficult for me to recognize and admit that I was in love with Jessica, and it was very difficult for me to see that her not loving me back didn’t have to be a tragedy. To see that the meaning of this love falls somewhere in between — in between crush/limerence and committed love is real romantic love, in between comedy and tragedy are real non-hyperbolized feelings, in between labels of “can’t live without her love” and “of little consequence” is “vitally important.” My ability to feel and recognize my love has been vitally important for me. It has served as a catalyst for change in my life — my divorce, re-evaluating what I am looking for in a relationship, taking more risks, becoming more engaged with life.
So why was this experience so intense for me? Did I love Jessica more than other women, unrequited or within a relationship? No, not really. Did the love feel different in substantial ways? Well, sort of. The physical and psychological “symptoms” of being in love are pretty consistent with all my previous experiences. But the longing, sense of grief, and edge of desire were much stronger with this one. Overall, it somehow felt more “real” to me. Probably simply because I am older, more self-aware, more confident, more ready for an experience that envelopes all of the qualities of love — strong desire, sustained intimacy, and responsibility or purposefulness.
I hope I fall in love again, I hope I fall in love with someone who loves me back. But even if I don’t fall in love again or get what I want, this experience has been meaningful and worth it. Although I hope I never fall in love with another student or otherwise unavailable person, it’s just too disappointing and painful. My love for Jessica has been real, has been fun, but it hasn’t been real fun.
I often wonder how off I might be in my estimation of Jessica’s likely reactions to my feelings or the info contained in this blog. I mean, I base my prediction on how I might feel if I learned similar info about this woman who has been in love or limerence with me. I believe my basic reaction would be a combination of flattered, amused tolerance, and a sense I was somewhat idealized or unrealistically perceived. I don’t think I would have too strong a negative reaction, even to the woman’s online searches for me and cyber-invasion of privacy. I feel I would see the woman (who is a real person, so I’m thinking of her in particular) as harmless, not too fucked up, feel flattered at the attention and feel badly she was in such pain. So this is how I think Jessica would also basically react, based on how I would feel, and based on my understanding of Jessica as an individual.
But I don’t know that. I mean, I’ve been thinking about Jessica for two years now. My feelings have abated somewhat but still seem to be there and to fluctuate in intensity. The truth is I’ve got pages and pages of this obsessive shit on here, and it might be kind of frightening or at least pathetic. It doesn’t feel particularly pathetic to me, but I’m on the inside of it. Maybe Jessica would see the site (and my feelings & behaviors) as…I don’t know, ridiculous, pathetic, obsessive, unrealistic, intrusive, frightening…Early on my (ex)spouse worked hard at helpfully having me understand that Jessica’s likely reaction to my emails was something like “Ok, thanks, well, bye creepy teacher, bye..” sidling away as quickly as politely possible.
Am I crafting a beautiful remembrance to Jessica and to my love for her? Or am I obsessively wallowing in a self-created hell (“abandon all hope, ye who enter here…”)? So I wonder if Jessica would see this site as a sort of Taj Mahal to my love for her, or as a Tomb of my insanity (obsessive, delusional)?
I’m struggling to understand that Jessica may have felt flattered by my interest, but she simply didn’t return it. What I mean is, it’s so painful to think that when my attraction came to light, she felt a visceral response of being repelled, or left clammy, completely unmoved as far as an instinctive sexual/bonding response. That she felt flat upon being offered my love and sexual attention. Not necessarily horrified (I hope), but just not interested. It’s just so bizarre to try and fully understand or know that I can really want and really love Jessica, and she can feel basically nothing in return, or nothing of substance. Yet I know this to be true, I have felt it myself when someone really likes me and is attracted to me and I’m flattered but just not interested. I try and think about this one woman whom I know fell in love or limerence with me. There is just no way I can muster up the level of intense engagement in thinking about her or her feelings for me (or somehow learning more about her feelings) compared with the intense interest I have when thinking about Jessica.
It’s so painful to have your personal reality, your feelings, be so completely out of sync with those of the person you are in love with.
I always have apocalyptic fantasies when I’m in love. I’ve been thinking about what the meaning of these ubiquitous fantasies might be. Like I’ve said in previous posts, I tend to run toward biological explanations for social behavior. So, the appeal of apocalyptic fantasies is no surprise, it sort of hangs together. “Back to basics” being the theme of biology and disaster, I suppose.
My fantasies involve basically one of two scenarios:
There is some sort of nuclear or social disaster, and I drive to Jessica’s place (or whoever I’m focused on for the moment), we take dogs, guns, and various assorted relatives and head for a more rural area to stake a claim in the post-apocalyptic world.
There isn’t really a disaster per se, but Jessica and I have a quiet and private revelation that life as we know it just is not what we want. We want something more “real,” more vital. We move out to an isolated area, or maybe a commune, often in these fantasies she is already pregnant, and we raise a family.
I think the psychological issue bubbling up from my unconscious to the surface is a desire to have a more meaningful, engaging, focused life. To excel under pressure, to focus on survival to the eclipse of everything else (societal expectations like the rat race, social niceties, personal and community politics, keeping up with the Joneses, etc). I want to focus solely on being with Jessica, perhaps with a small community of like-minded others, farming and hunting, communing with nature. It has come to me that these are basically Eden-before-the-Fall fantasies, idyllic natural settings with an idyllic natural focus (procreation, protection of loved ones, intimate communities, living closer to the edge of procuring food and safety, closer to nature’s red tooth and claw).
Classic love/limerence fantasies. It just speaks to me of what has been missing in my life, what I have not yet had the courage to pursue — deeper engagement, real romantic love (I’ve had shadows of romantic love in the past but I’m really ready for the deeper stuff now), sacrifice for my immediate family, and the establishment of core values that make the anemic offerings of bland 21st century society pale in comparison.
Apocalypse. End of the world (as we know it). Return me to a state of grace.
I guess I’m getting mad because something still hurts. Even more now, maybe. I think of Jessica married and having kids and being happy and I just feel sick, sick and lonely. My chest hurts, I’m vaguely sick to my stomach. I see her becoming traditional, hardly ever going out, growing apart from her husband emotionally, bored at home with the baby. (Believe me, this is pretty much what happens in most marriages, according to my textbooks and according to my patients.) I see her husband simply not being able to offer her the level of emotional intimacy she wants, most men simply don’t work that way. Aside: Of course, this part of the fantasy is ridiculous as well as self-serving, it’s unfair to characterize him as such a stereotype, I don’t know what he’s really like. Plus, I think about the men in my own life (brother, cousin, friends, patients) and I know they love, and love well, but just aren’t good at identifying their feelings and talking — it doesn’t mean they see the women in their lives as two-dimensional objects of ownership. Or another version of that fantasy that I spontaneously torture myself with involves her staying more active and engaged, having a successful career, becoming more self-confident, getting hit on by colleagues on a regular basis (which pisses me off to no end). Either way, she is retreating into the distance, and I miss her, I swear I do.
But what the hell? How real can this be at this point? Even to begin with I barely knew this woman, didn’t talk or interact with her very much. I know that I should recognize her as a fantasy that has very little to do with the actual person, but it doesn’t feel that way. It still feels real. And I don’t understand why this love is hanging around so long. Is this something I am doing to myself to push through my divorce? Am I just prone to fantasy and she is my current favorite character? What’s changed is that I don’t feel feverish and crazy, I’m not staying up nights unable to sleep, or unable to eat. My mind isn’t focused on Jessica 99% of the time, the cognitive intrusiveness of love/limerence has faded considerably. I don’t really feel “in love” but something remains, I’m just not sure what to call it — love, obsession, fantasy distraction, wounded pride, childhood disappointment?
What I can say with some degree of certitude is that as you get older, falling in love actually becomes more real, rather than less real. You’re more able to see the other person in a realistic way, rather than placing him/her on a pedastel or looking to them to save you. This deeper level of “real” to being in love also makes it hurt more, and I think, longer.
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Jul 29 2009
