"You Don't Know What It's Like...."

by Gwen Cooper — May 18, 2007

Today I turn my attention away from my own dating life and shine the spotlight on a friend's--or rather, a friend of Robert's named Michael. I had occasion just over a year ago to inform Michael that there was an entire genre of women's fiction devoted to the premise of women who eventually end up with guys like him. You know the story: plucky, New York City career girl with a shoe fetish suffers through a series of dating misadventures before finally, in the last chapter, ending up with a guy who's handsome, smart, sweet, funny, loyal, and makes pots of money. Michael is all of these things, and much more.

The subject came up because we were counseling Michael on his relationship with a woman named Linda. He and Linda had been a couple for eight years, cohabitating for seven, and for about the last four Linda had been threatening him with various ultimatums about how, if he didn't propose by such-and-such a date, she was outta there.

I should possibly clarify that nobody who knew this couple--not friends or family on either side--believed them to be happy together. They fought constantly. Linda refused to "let" Michael attend friends' birthday parties or celebratory occasions. It had been so long since they'd had sex of any kind, Clinton was still in office when last the deed was done (I kid you not). One Christmas, Michael presented Linda with an $11,000 pair of diamond earrings, which he'd spent months having custom designed. Linda's response: "I'm not really a diamond earrings kind of a girl."

When Robert told me this story, my response was, "You tell Michael that I'm a dues-paying member of NOW, and even I say that when a man gives you an $11,000 pair of earrings--you suck his [SLANG TERM FOR PENIS]! At least once in a fiscal year, for chrissakes!"

Ahem.

After years of Michael's racking his very soul over the "should I or shouldn't I propose" question (and driving his friends nearly batty in the process), Linda finally took the bull by the horns and moved out. On her way out the door, she took Michael's laptop, his stereo, and various articles of furniture purchased by Michael before they'd begun dating. This was done without Michael's knowledge or consent, but he said nothing. Poking around on his desktop computer a few days later, with the plan of emailing Linda any important files that might still be lingering, he discovered emails and photos suggesting Linda had been seeing other men for months before she moved out.

This was about six months ago, and in the interim Michael has (in what I suppose is not entirely unpredictable fashion) decided that Linda is "the one who got away." Despite eight years of not being able to bring himself to propose to her--albeit while lacking the, um, stones to simply break up with her--he now frequently opines that he should have proposed to her then, and maybe he should propose to her now. This kind of talk--and the thought of a lifetime of Linda--sends his friends into a tailspin of panic.

My own opinion on all of this has always been twofold. On the one hand, I can't help blaming Michael for this debacle of a relationship at least as much as I blame Linda. Linda may not have treated him well, but Michael's the guy who voluntarily put up with the bad treatment for years and years. Breaking up is always hard to do, but--eight years? Eight years of fighting and bad-to-no sex for...what, exactly? The stability of a long-term relationship? To paraphrase Benjamin Franklin, they who would sacrifice essential happiness for a little temporary stability deserve neither happiness nor stability.

And I also blame Michael's friends, including Robert, for trying so hard to be sensitive that they've forgotten to tell Michael the unvarnished truth. Last night, he was telling us of an unreturned phone call to Linda and saying, "I think it might really be over. Do you guys think it's over?"

I could bear it no longer. "Well," I replied, "she moved out, she took all your stuff, she won't return your calls, and she's fucking other guys. Yes, I'd have to say it's really over."

I think it was the first time anyone had spoken to him so bluntly on the subject. He looked slightly shocked for a moment, then sighed and said, "You've never been in a relationship like this. You don't know what it's like..."

Don't I? I have two eyes in my head, don't I?

What does one do with a man like this? No, seriously, I'm asking you--what does one do?

Gwen Cooper is the author of Diary of a South Beach Party Girl, recently published by Simon & Schuster. To read all of Gwen Cooper's posts in "The Dating Life," click here.