After my second divorce, in 2013, as a result of my stroke in 2011, I figured that I was entirely done with women except on a superficial level. However, in February or March of 2016, I had met an unusual woman.
The term “NAWALT” (an acronym meaning “Not All Women Are Like That”) is a thing that may or may not exist. It is like the unicorn, it is a very rare women who intentionally ignores or overrides her hypergamous nature.
Now, this woman of which I speak may be a NAWALT. I don’t know. We have gone for walks with each other, we have drank coffee on occasions, we have even gone out to eat with each other. And in every event, aside from our walks, she has always paid her own way.
She would not allow me to pay for her meals or coffee. At all.
That makes this woman a very rare woman.
And while all men with any brain would willingly die for this woman, since she pays her own way, is stunningly beautiful, and is built perfectly. I have sadly come to the conclusion that we are not compatible.
Yes, I have stopped pursuing the perfect woman because of our differences in politics, movie preferences, music preferences, book preferences, and some other minor differences.
Perhaps, in time, we can become friends, by my definition of a friend, but we can never be more than that. I was hopeful, and I was under the delusion that I could change myself to measure up to her. But, as I have said, that is a delusion.
But, I have saved myself from having a relationship that could go bad. It was a brief fantasy, but reality reasserted itself and I know that we could not work.
And so, I regain who I am. I regain my true nature. And I go through life, as usual, yet again.
But it was still a good fantasy for a short while.
Three times in the past, I had told a woman that I loved her. I was mistaken. Two of those women were my wives. I was married the first time in 1984. I was too young to understand anything about love, and I got my first divorce in 1988. I was married the second time in 1999, I thought I was old enough to love the woman, but I discovered that I didn’t love her and she left me, because of my stroke, in 2013. Both of my marriages ended tragically, but I did not have to pay any alimony as a result, which was very good for me. And in the end, while I didn’t come out ahead, I came out of my two failed marriages mostly intact, fortunately. The second time I told a woman that I had loved her, she was a girlfriend, in 1991. That was a good relationship, it ended amicably, in the end. We had eventually parted on good terms.
But I never understood a single thing about love, even though I am now Fifty-One years old. Is that a failing for me? Or is it the fact what many people call love, really isn’t love? This feeling that we call love could be just habituation.
Now, I have experienced tenderness, and some other fantastic emotions, and things that other people might call love. But I have never experienced the end-all, be-all, mind-numbing emotion for which I would live for and die for. And perhaps my conception of love is unrealistic, a pipe dream, an illusion that is better than life. But I don’t think so.
I think that most other people also do not understand love, but they think they understand love. And that is sad for them, because these other people have also never experienced love, but because I admit that I have never experienced love, I guess I could be ahead of the game.
I think that my “habituation hypothesis” is a more accurate assessment of what people call love. We get used to a person, we learn the ways of the other person, and we “get in a rut” that we call love, but isn’t. We, essentially, get used to the other person, we overlook things that we would not tolerate except we are used to the other person’s shortcomings, and we eventually accept these facts because accepting these things is far more comfortable than if we leave the other person.
Again, I ask you, have you been in love? Or was it merely habituation?