There are a couple of puzzles that we probably are not going to be able to solve today: the riddle of the Sphinx, nature versus nurture, and why people become more appealing when we can’t have them.
Let’s start with the last one. Bob and Mandy met in April at a barbecue. He hadn’t been in a serious relationship in quite a while and wasn’t really looking for one.
“I stopped having expectations any time I went out years ago. But the moment Mandy walked in, I was instantly captivated.”
He called her the next day, and they began to date. They were both in their mid-20s, both ambitious. Mandy was going through a career change, and they spent a lot of their early dates at Kinko’s, copying resumes. Then, when the weather got warm, there were picnics, concerts, art fairs. They went rollerblading, bike riding. They liked each other’s families.
“We had so many things in common, it seemed too perfect. We got along so well because we were a reflection of each other and lived life to its fullest. By the end of the summer, we couldn’t believe that a relationship could be this great.”
In September, Bob entered an intensive, full-time, 15-month graduate program. They both knew it was going to have an effect on their relationship. Physically, he was still around, sort of, but in every other way he was gone. He just had time for a nightly phone call and a Saturday night date.
“Even when we were together, I couldn’t totally forget about the work and stress of graduate school. Mandy knew how ambitious and focused I was. That was one of the things that originally attracted her. I felt secure she would always be there for me as I coped with school.”
In the months they had been dating, they had discussed marriage a few times. Mandy was ready, Bob was not. They agreed to discuss it again in the spring.
If there was one potential danger zone in their relationship it was that Mandy needed “constant reminding” of how much Bob loved her. And Bob had a hard time expressing his feelings. He loved her. He knew she knew he loved her. It was the “constant reminding” part he had trouble with.
In January, Mandy wanted to talk. She told Bob she wasn’t sure about her feelings toward him anymore and she wanted to date.
Now, here’s the part that Bob will replay at 3 a.m. for a long, long time. His reaction to Mandy’s wanting to date was “nothing.” Nada, zip, zero. “I never thought about it. I wasn’t ready to commit, so I obliged her wishes.”
Well, Mandy wasn’t making some idle threat. The next week, she told Bob she’d had a date and enjoyed it. She wanted to date some more. This time Bob got the message. Loud and clear.
“I never realized how deep my love was until I began to look at my future without her.”
A strange thing happened. All of a sudden Bob, the guy who couldn’t express his feelings, couldn’t keep them inside anymore. “They just flew out.” He wrote long love letters, sent gardens of roses. “It felt so natural to tell her how much I loved her, how beautiful she was. How much I wanted us to spend the rest of our lives together.”
But it was too late. Two weeks later, Mandy ended the relationship. And now Bob can’t stop thinking about her. “What if?” he asks himself. What if he had told her he loved her more often? What if he had agreed to marriage?
More Top Picks Headaches When Reading Could It Be Irlen Syndrome
But maybe the real question he should be asking is: What if she were still around? Would he still want her this much?
———-
If you married before 25 do you regret it? Even if you love your spouse? Send your tale to Cheryl Lavin, Tales from the front, baiduhai, 435 N. Michigan Ave., Chicago, Ill., 60611. Please include day and evening phone numbers. Letters may be used in whole or in part for any purpose and become the property of the column.