I once knew a girl.
She was funny, intelligent, compassionate and a total knockout. We immediately related with one another; in essence, she was all I ever wanted in a woman. It was almost too good to be true.
Turns out, it was. Another young man, just as appreciative of such qualities, had met her two years earlier. He asked her out and they had been a couple since then. She and I met under these circumstances, and no secret was made about her relationship.
I was driving home after an evening out with this girl, riding on an emotional high … until an increasingly unpleasant feeling, prompted by hearing “For No One” by The Beatles, prodded its way to the forefront of my consciousness. I reached a moment of truth; I had been wasting months of my life living under the spell of false hope.
In the end, I put a huge amount of time and anxiety into a friendship that would, essentially, never be what I actually wanted. No matter how hard I tried, she would never be my girlfriend.
Throughout my life, I’ve been an adherent to a certain romantic pragmatism. My relationships are usually very pleasant and fulfilling because any whiff of dysfunction is immediately discussed. If the problem is addressed adequately, the relationship continues. If not, I split faster than dry lumber in the sun.
It was rather surprising for me to discover that many other people do not live like this. I have found that many of my peers in apparently stable long-term relationships actually feel romantically constrained or unfulfilled and are unable to express this with their partner.
In any romantic relationship, it’s absolutely essential to maintain and express your own identity. Any needs, desires or ideals you have are equally valid as the other person’s; trouble arises when either person’s needs, desires and ideals are ignored to preserve appearances.
Unlike loudly strife-ridden relationships (where feelings are expressed, but perspective and agreement are never achieved), quiet-dysfunction is doubly dangerous. Potentially harmful actions, like faults below the surface of the Earth, remain unseen … waiting, building, until they spring into action.
One such harmful action is “emotional cheating.” This is carrying on all the emotional trappings of a romantic relationship with someone other than one’s partner, minus physical intimacy. Essentially, it’s a way for someone in a committed relationship to get the emotional connection they’ve been missing from their partner without the seedy immorality of a sexual indiscretion.
In the days following our last “date,” I not only regretted my self-delusion, but also grieved the loss of it. The honeymoon was over, and I had to call things off. She was devastated when I called her to task, vehemently denying her intentions.
But we both knew the truth; that’s why our parting ways played out like a bad breakup. She didn’t want to face her reality, and after I had faced mine, I had no other choice but to take the initiative. Someone else’s problems had become my own, and I chose to remove myself from the situation.
And so, because of a triangular lack of honesty and individuality, I became, to quote Paul Banks, a “scavenger between the sheets of union.” It was an experience I do not seek to repeat.
Alex is for no one, but may be reached at alexander.petrusek@asu.edu.
