So I heard a fact on This American Life that had me wondering. The fact was this: people don't stay in love for longer than 18-24 months. And if that's true--and the person who stated it was a psychologist--and think about that for a second if you've been with someone longer than that period of time--if that's true, then what is it that I feel when I'm excited to see Sam across a crowded room? Or when I got that little frisson of joy when I saw him coming down Broadway on Wednesday afternoon? (And might I add that we were doing the most mundane of things, picking up our bikes from the tune-up place, and he was carrying his bike helmet in one hand and was just, you know, in everyday work clothes.) I'm not saying that the psychologist wasn't telling the truth, but then...I want to know the answer. Am I deluding myself? Is that what a psychologist would say is happening when I feel those things? That I say I'm still in love with him, so I'm somehow creating a way for it to be true?
I obviously don't know the answers to these questions, because otherwise I wouldn't be asking them. I do know that over almost 6 years (on June 11 or 12, we never are sure), things have mellowed. There is definitely a missing sense of urgency that characterized the first few years of the relationship. Hell, the first 6 months, even. Of course, any sense of mystery is completely out the window, but I wasn't shocked by that. I was prepared for it. In a way, I welcomed it, having a pragmatic view of such things; I've written here in the past about the idea of companionship, and how our relationship having been built on a friendship really gave me a strong feeling that our companionship would drive the relationship in its later years. And I don't know if that's true, quite, but it's certainly something that's going on here. He IS my best friend, and I do enjoy just being around him. He's the person I look for to tell things to, and quite removed from anything sexual, I genuinely enjoy being in his company. Isn't that companionship?
But right now, it'd be really wrong of me to say that the main mover in this relationship is a desire for companionship. It's not for me, not yet. And maybe not ever? Maybe companionship will always be a secondary component of what we've got going on here. I think that right now, our prime motivation for being here is love. It's nearly impossible to dictate why I know that, or exactly what that means except--yes, I do miss him when he's not around, and yes, I still do get excited about the fact that he's mine to love, and that furthermore, he loves me too. I can literally feel it in my heart sometimes. I can't explain that either. But I know it to be true.
So to the tricky question of "in love". Does it matter, really? We've always expressed that idea, the "I'm in love with you" statement, as opposed to "I love you", and that's not really stopped after our first 24 months together. But maybe we're not "in love" anymore. Maybe being in love is deceptive, and maybe it's not all it's cracked up to be. Maybe the more important thing is if you can stand to be with someone for 16 hours a day and still tell him you love him, and still get excited when you see him after 8 hours apart. Maybe the most important thing is that something bigger than "in love" has grown up in the place of "in love". A deeper commitment. I don't know, because I'm not 100% sure I'm ready to relinquish "in love" just yet.
What does that word "in" mean, really, except that I choose this person on a higher level than those I simply love. I love my mom. I love my dad. I love my sister and brother. I've loved many, many friends, and many more family members. But there is only one person who can have the "in" label, and that's Sam. Maybe what the psychologist and I are talking about are different things. But there is only one person whom I love like Sam, and that's Sam. Historically, maybe we've needed some way to denote that, and that's all that "in love" label means. I'm not ready to relegate Sam to the "just friends" bin, no matter how much I love those friends, so for me, "in love" continues to be a useful way to talk about our relationship. We're "in love". And we are, too. We're still amidst a great amount of love, and I can think of no other way to say it.
I obviously don't know the answers to these questions, because otherwise I wouldn't be asking them. I do know that over almost 6 years (on June 11 or 12, we never are sure), things have mellowed. There is definitely a missing sense of urgency that characterized the first few years of the relationship. Hell, the first 6 months, even. Of course, any sense of mystery is completely out the window, but I wasn't shocked by that. I was prepared for it. In a way, I welcomed it, having a pragmatic view of such things; I've written here in the past about the idea of companionship, and how our relationship having been built on a friendship really gave me a strong feeling that our companionship would drive the relationship in its later years. And I don't know if that's true, quite, but it's certainly something that's going on here. He IS my best friend, and I do enjoy just being around him. He's the person I look for to tell things to, and quite removed from anything sexual, I genuinely enjoy being in his company. Isn't that companionship?
But right now, it'd be really wrong of me to say that the main mover in this relationship is a desire for companionship. It's not for me, not yet. And maybe not ever? Maybe companionship will always be a secondary component of what we've got going on here. I think that right now, our prime motivation for being here is love. It's nearly impossible to dictate why I know that, or exactly what that means except--yes, I do miss him when he's not around, and yes, I still do get excited about the fact that he's mine to love, and that furthermore, he loves me too. I can literally feel it in my heart sometimes. I can't explain that either. But I know it to be true.
So to the tricky question of "in love". Does it matter, really? We've always expressed that idea, the "I'm in love with you" statement, as opposed to "I love you", and that's not really stopped after our first 24 months together. But maybe we're not "in love" anymore. Maybe being in love is deceptive, and maybe it's not all it's cracked up to be. Maybe the more important thing is if you can stand to be with someone for 16 hours a day and still tell him you love him, and still get excited when you see him after 8 hours apart. Maybe the most important thing is that something bigger than "in love" has grown up in the place of "in love". A deeper commitment. I don't know, because I'm not 100% sure I'm ready to relinquish "in love" just yet.
What does that word "in" mean, really, except that I choose this person on a higher level than those I simply love. I love my mom. I love my dad. I love my sister and brother. I've loved many, many friends, and many more family members. But there is only one person who can have the "in" label, and that's Sam. Maybe what the psychologist and I are talking about are different things. But there is only one person whom I love like Sam, and that's Sam. Historically, maybe we've needed some way to denote that, and that's all that "in love" label means. I'm not ready to relegate Sam to the "just friends" bin, no matter how much I love those friends, so for me, "in love" continues to be a useful way to talk about our relationship. We're "in love". And we are, too. We're still amidst a great amount of love, and I can think of no other way to say it.
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