The Long of Long-Term Relationship

At nearly two years with my Beloved, this is my longest relationship ever. Each passing birthday and holiday together, funeral and wedding is a road sign flying by that says I’m farther and farther away from any place I’ve been. I’m surprised by what turns up on the scenic route:

Gaining Weight
When I was single, I danced to top 40s at Mood Lounge on Monday night, salsa at Tongue and Groove on Wednesday, Latin rock at Loca Luna on Friday, and hip hop at Sutra on Saturday. It amounted to about 16 hours of stiletto-stomping, bass-pumping, aerobic writhing and flirting a week. Now, I’m lucky if I log 45 minutes on an elliptical before watching The Daily Show while drinking a beer (because that’s what he stocks) on his couch.

Creating Our Own Linguistics of Love
I’ve had inside jokes and pet names before, but we have, uh, progressed to being able to communicate in a complex system of grunts.

Learning to Love Unconditionally
In the bright beginnings of a relationship, you put everything else aside - like a vacation - to shower acts of kindness on a new love. Then, one or both of you learn that the other isn’t a heaven-sent angel at all, but a human being, a deeply flawed human being at that – which is so not what you signed up for. That’s when most couples break up. To be honest, sometimes I miss the perpetual beginning of a relationship, being seen as so perfect, so beautiful, so charmingly articulate. Now, I’m thick, and I grunt a lot.

My Beloved has witnessed my temper, my grief, my quirks, my myriad failures. We either had to break up or learn to love unconditionally, and obviously we haven’t broken up. (Well, we did once, but does 19 hours really count?) In fact, I often find myself saying “I love him too much to even let this silly thing annoy me.”

Planning the Future with a Capital F
I’ve daringly planned trips months ahead of time with boyfriends before. My Beloved, though, has made me start saving for retirement, and the other night, we decided on our “last song” for our eventual wedding reception.



But I have not reached the point when I am comfortable farting around him. That is so not what I signed up for. Many of you have been in relationships for much much longer. Tell me, what else am I in for?

Love as Dangerous Chemical Imbalance

“Would you rather have a love potion that made you more likely to become attached to someone else, or a love vaccine that stopped you from falling in love with the wrong person?” - John Tierney, New York Times, blogging hilariously about the possibility of a love vaccine

A neuroscientist at Emory University’s Yerkes National Primate Research Centers published a study in the January issue of Nature. He posits that pair-bonding in humans (as in voles, one of the few other monogamous mammals) can be enhanced or suppressed by tinkering with brain hormones like oxytocin and vasopressin.

Tierney interviews Dr. Larry Young and reports:

“When a female prairie vole’s brain is artificially infused with oxytocin, a hormone that produces some of the same neural rewards as nicotine and cocaine, she’ll quickly become attached to the nearest male. A related hormone, vasopressin, creates urges for bonding and nesting when it is injected in male voles (or naturally activated by sex). After Dr. Young found that male voles with a genetically limited vasopressin response were less likely to find mates, Swedish researchers reported that men with a similar genetic tendency were less likely to get married.”
Young is looking for drugs to improve the social skills of people with autism and schizophrenia, but can imagine applications of drugs in conjunction with marital therapy.

I agree with Tierney that, “Love is indeed a many-splendored thing, but sometimes we all need to tie ourselves to the mast.” That’s why, for example, I don’t date writers anymore.