Will You Love Me Tomorrow?

"Opera Reminiscences: Desdemona and Othello" (1829), William Heath

"Love at first sight" happens, but is it effective as the basis for a long-term relationship?

The first time my grandfather saw my grandmother in the schoolyard, he said, "That's my girl!" They married a few years later, and were together for life.

I had a teacher in elementary school who married her husband the day they met. At the time she told us her story, they had been married 15 years.

I know a couple who married just two weeks after meeting. They are still happily together 30 years later.

Hubby and I felt instantly connected the night we met. That was 40 years ago.

• The Cleveland Clinic is a bit skeptical.
• PsychCentral isn't convinced.
• The counselors at Brides recommend slowing down.
• Psychology Today says it isn't real.
• Love at first sight is a theme or plot point in many movies.

 

It Was Great Not Getting to Know You

Years ago, a man I knew through work told me that he sometimes paid for sex. No, he wasn't hiring "escorts" or picking up prostitutes on street corners. In his job, he sometimes met women who were facing financial difficulties. He would take them to dinner and then offer them money to come to a hotel for sex with him.

There wasn't anything obviously weird about this guy. He had a pleasant face and looked healthy and clean. His grammar and manners were good. He had a good job and dressed well.

I said, "I don't see why you need to do that. There must be lots of women who would like to be involved with you." His answer was, "I don't have time to cultivate relationships."

 

Jay

Years ago, I was involved in producing plays at a small theater in Pasadena. In that context, I met Jay, who was the theater critic for a local paper. Jay was alienated from his family, and therefore had written under a series of pseudonyms, until he finally had his name legally changed. He wanted to quit, and I wanted to write, so he arranged for me to take his place.

We became lovers, although we were never really in love. The old building where he lived had once been a hotel, the abandoned front desk with its wall of message cubbyholes still in place on the ground floor. The rooms had been converted to "studio" apartments with the addition of little kitchenettes. I never asked him if he owned the furniture or if it was included.

I tried to spend the night there, but his bed was too narrow and the neighbors were too noisy. He didn't like to stay over at my place because he didn't have a car.

A year went by. He quietly reconnected with his old girlfriend, and I, a bit less quietly, started seeing other people. There was no drama, no argument, no need to collect personal items from each other's apartments. We hadn't even left toothbrushes.

A few weeks later, he sent me a postcard asking me to call. I called, but the phone just rang and rang. Jay had no answering machine, he was out a lot, and he never answered the phone if he had company.

Sometimes something reminds me of him, and I wonder what it was he wanted to say to me.