Unrequited Love Blog

I’ve been thinking how falling for Jessica, an engaged student, and essentially making a pass at her (or at least making my attraction clear) was not my finest moment .  But then, if she had been interested I would probably think that making the pass (and gaining her love/affection) would have been well worth the regrettable but unavoidable upset to all concerned parties and the general drama that may have ensued .  Hindsight is 20/20, and we revise our past to accommodate our present.

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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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I’m finally getting mad, which is good, or at least it’s honest.

To Jessica:

How dare you feel badly for me, or think the whole thing is “cute”!  I think you may have tried to talk to me after that class (but I’m really not sure, my brain was very confused at the time).  How dare you feel “flattered” and want to tell me that, want to “thank” me.  I’m not telling you a god-damned thing!  What, you want to talk to me so you can get the experience of being a liberal straight woman who gets an attraction from another woman and manages to handle it well? So you can feel all good about yourself, flattered, that you “did the right thing,” that you didn’t freak out, that you didn’t treat me much differently than you would have a man who was interested in you? All of which is basically true, but I’ll be damned if I’ll cooperate in your fantasy of being a good liberal.  You became so pleased and self-satisfied during that last class.  Underneath the “I’ll show her that I’m ok with it and that I’m flattered” veneer, you had a sense of pleasure and self-satisfaction that you got this strong sexual/emotional attraction from me, just another type of notch on your lipstick case, but of course you would never be so direct as to acknowledge that part openly.

You can just take those those mildly flattered feelings and trade them in toward a vanilla coke, ’cause I’m not interested in them.  You can just go, get married, have a couple of kids, move out to the suburbs, get fucked on Saturday night (maybe …  if he’s up for it), and go to church on Sunday just like every other self-congratulatory liberal who “used to live in the city.”

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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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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.

Please offer comments…

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