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 think I have a few more posts left in me, then I’m probably going to close down this blog. I’ll still leave it up for others to access, but I don’t anticipate contributing many new posts, if any, to it anymore. (I’ll continue to work on the website, though).
In case I haven’t communicated my conflicted feelings very well, let me just say that sometimes when I’m away from this blog I have strong urges to immediately delete these embarrassing and vulnerable self-disclosures. I think “What was I thinking?! That was really a bad idea, you need to shut it down right now before people actually figure out who the hell you are.” When I’m away from it, I see my behaviors as more adolescent and obsessive. I truly regret my intrusive use of the internet.
But what doesn’t appreciably change is my evaluation of my feelings. I still say I fell in romantic love with Jessica, I mean it brought me to my knees. I don’t love her the way we use the word to communicate commitment and intimate knowledge of a person, I don’t really know her. But I was in love with her for quite a while. It’s hard to know exactly when you cross the line from being in love, to having been in love. I’m not sure there is a clear boundary. Like everything else in life, it’s a gradation, an attenuation of feeling that doesn’t ever fully go away. It just becomes less all-consuming, I have become less possessed.
I’d like to post on the following topics before I close down: why this “nice Catholic girl” type, how did I decide it was love vs. a crush, why didn’t I pursue her more openly or make a clear declaration of love/affection/desire, was I attracted to her or did I feel something for her in an earlier class we had together…
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 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.
It occurs to me that there is no such thing as second place, or even a consolation prize, in love — you either win or you lose. Even if you develop or maintain a friendship, unless you fallcompletely out of love with the person, friendship surely does not fill the space in your soul that Love had tenderly and hopefully created.
I have fantasies of friendship with Jessica, but there is always something else going on in the relationship. The fantasy tends to run like we’re friends but she’s unhappy or unfulfilled in her marriage and slowly falls in love with me. There is unremarked sexual tension, lots of sunlight, she likes my huge protective dog (which is a love-worthy feat all on its own, believe me), she hangs out in my condo a lot (nice, clean condo with dishwasher and attractive decor for those who have been reading this blog earlier), we talk a lot and get to know each other.
Sometimes the fantasy ends with Jessica being unwilling or unable to leave her husband, and I’m miserable. Or she does leave and it’s a huge drama with hurt feelings (husband, parents) and anger (parents). Either way, I either win or lose, but no consolation prize, I can’t maintain a consolation prize fantasy.
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Jul 29 2009
