Jan. 4, 2000
Dear Mr. Blue,
A friend has just dumped his wife of 30 years to take up with a woman 35 years younger whom he is now introducing to his friends. She seems nice if a bit vapid, staring at him, grabbing his hand, hanging on his every word, etc. His wife is distraught. He seems happy if tired and seems aware of the oddness of the situation. What is our role as friends? Do we support him, or tell him he is an idiot; do we talk to the girl and ask her what she thinks she is doing, or do we smile politely and engage in conversation and be ready to pick up the pieces should the thing fall over in a heap?
Friend Indeed
Dear Friend,
You smile and say polite things and ask the girl how she likes this weather we've been having and compliment her on her shoes. You keep in touch with the wife, if you had a personal connection to her, and if your real connection was to the husband, then you don't. You don't tell him he's an idiot unless he asks, "Am I an idiot?" and then you say, "Yes, but I like you anyway."
Dear Mr. Blue,
I am a talented musician, a not-so-bad writer and an aspiring actress, among other things. But I can't concentrate on one thing long enough to pursue it, and if I start to pursue one thing, I start to hyperventilate after about a week, with fear that I'm ruining my life by not pursuing the other things. In the meantime, I am painting houses, which, in need of paint though they may be, is unfulfilling work at best. I'm 34 and am afraid of turning into one of those "if only she hadn't wasted her life" people. I'm in a pickle. Should I go to a remote corner of Maine and try to write a novel? Should I move to Italy and rent a piano and write songs? Is it better to be around other artists, or be by yourself? If a person commits so fully to their art, what becomes of them?
Drowning in My Life
Dear Drowning,
My dear young lady, put down your paintbrush and give yourself a sabbatical. Can you take six months? Or two or three? No need to go to Italy. Home is fine. But arrange your days to give yourself time to sit and think about the future and write and play music and get yourself calmed down and in focus. I suggest you give yourself an arbitrary assignment to complete, a task of several months' duration. For example, you could write down everything you know about house-painting; write about the people you learned from and the difference between good work and shoddy and the life histories of the people you've worked with and your impressions of the clients and see if this might lead you toward something larger, perhaps a work of fiction. Work on it at least a little bit every day for your sabbatical and try to pass through the hyperventilation stage and keep going. It's easier to start projects than to stick with them, easier to make promises than keep them, but you can outsmart this jitteriness by simply making yourself keep going, as runners do, and writers, and as anybody does.
Dear Mr. Blue,
I'm 31. About four months ago, my boyfriend broke up with me because he was in love with someone else. We had been together for two and a half years. He was my first lover, and he was everything I could've asked for, funny, charming, sexy, attentive, all that. A woman he worked with kept visiting us, finding things to do with him and acting like she was my friend. It freaked me out, I could see what was happening, but he assured me he didn't feel anything for her other than friendship. Then, in August, I took a vacation, during which he called me up and told me he wasn't sure that he wanted to keep living with me. I was devastated and moved out. I don't want to lose his friendship -- he still calls about once a week, just to chat, and we have good conversations, just like we always did. My question is, can I still be friends with this man? It hurts like hell to see that I've been replaced so quickly. How do I learn to forgive him for the pain he has caused? How do I transfer those feelings of love into friendship? Is it possible?
Jilted
Dear Jilted,
You can't get there from here. You've been rejected in a weaselly way, and I hope you told your boyfriend how devastated you felt and made his ears burn. But you don't say you did: You go straight from "I moved out" to "I don't want to lose his friendship." Don't be a doormat. If you haven't done it already, tell this charming man, "I loved you, you miserable weasel, and the moment I turned my back, you used this brainless bimbo to extricate yourself from our relationship because you didn't have the balls to deal with me honestly. Is this going to be the pattern for the rest of your sorry shitbird life? If it is, then you're not going to have any friends left, including me, numb nuts." Or use your own words. You can't be friends with someone you're afraid to express anger to. Rock the bozo with some lightning and thunder, and drive him weeping to his knees begging for forgiveness, and then consider friendship.
Dear Mr. Blue,
I'm a 26-year-old writer in love with a wonderful 30-year-old woman. We've been together just over a year, and she is anxious to get married and settle down. When we began spending time together, this seemed acceptable to me as well, but now I find myself resisting it more. Suddenly I have a growing list of doubts and have almost talked myself into the conclusion that it would be better to end the relationship. Do you have any thoughts on the limits of sacrifice for love? And how much fear should one feel about marriage?
Entangled
Dear Entangled,
This doesn't sound good. People contemplating marriage should be happy and imagining a beautiful life, deciding whether to put the Ping-Pong table in the dining room or the bedroom. They shouldn't be brooding on the subject of sacrifice. You'll have to sacrifice plenty, but that comes later, and it sneaks up on you. It isn't a heroic deed that you embark on now, like Nathan Hale going to the gallows. You marry to find the joy and richness of your life, no matter how many sad stories you may hear. Don't take another step, sir, until your fears abate and your doubts diminish.
Dear Mr. Blue,
I am a 30-year-old woman writing up a doctoral dissertation in cultural anthropology and living with my boyfriend of eight years whom I'm still wild about. He's a stubborn nonconformist, very loving, and an ace traveling companion. We used to have an apartment near my university. We were the only straight couple in our building, and it was a fantastic neighborhood, with great foreign restaurants, art galleries, independent movie theaters and drag queens casually shopping in the grocery stores. Then my boyfriend's father bought a house for us and we moved in.
I love the house but now find myself in the middle of suburbia. There are no drag queens in the market here, only young women burdened with small children in their shopping carts. This new environment, combined with turning 30, is putting me into an existential crisis. I feel like I can't make any friends here because our values would be so different. I find myself wondering whether I should want marriage and a baby and wondering why this is all bothering me so much. My mom went through menopause at about 40, and I feel like the walls of free choice are starting to close in. How can I decide what I really want without worrying about what other people want or expect from me?
Fish Out of Water
Dear Fish,
Don't judge those young suburban women with the shopping carts so severely. What sort of anthropologist are you, to leap to conclusions based on no interviews whatsoever, just a glimpse of people shopping? Those young women have long thoughts and elaborate lives and delicate pleasures all their own: Just because they don't choose to camp around like divas doesn't make them inferior to you. But if you wish to make your life among drag queens, that's fine. The choice is yours. (I hope you find a good babysitter.) How can you decide what you really want? You do what all of us do. You endure the vagaries of fate and stumble into what seems like a pretty good deal and find yourself in a whole vast set of circumstances that you then rationalize as a choice.
Dear Mr. Blue,
I used to be able to write. I could write little stories, and my letters were always eagerly anticipated (and saved) by their recipients. Everyone told me I needed to write, instead of dithering my life away on other things. I took the writing for granted, as it came easily, but always assumed that someday I would do something with it, and then I became a graduate student in a social science. And now several years later, I find I've completely lost any and all ability to write, much less think. I can barely string two words together. And I'm very sad about this. So here I sit at 1 a.m., wondering: Is this a permanent condition? Has graduate school caused permanent brain damage? Or is my muse just annoyed with me?
Sad and a Little Drunk
Dear Sad,
One of the beauties of the craft of writing is its power to take us out of ourselves, to heal our damaged hearts, to restore our faith and even to restore our ability to write. When you're sad, a little drunk, worried about the state of your mind or your soul, you can sit down and patch yourself up a little by writing about it.
Dear Mr. Blue,
I am a woman, 32, in a three-
Confused
Dear Confused,
This wonderful man you're with has worked with you to make a good relationship but you don't seem to be in love with him. The old love still burns brightly, and it sounds as if you must take the risk and go find the great love of your life and see how he looks up close and if he feels the same about you.
Dear Mr. Blue,
I am in a terrible mess, but then aren't we all? I've been married for 15 years to a lovely woman, whom I love and care for, but I am desperately unhappy. We have no communication or shared interests, and our sex life is nonexistent. We bury ourselves in work and leave little time to run into each other at home. Life just seems to go on and on and on ... and on. I find myself thinking about divorce and fantasizing about Something More. I want children, I want passion and I want to be IN LOVE. My wife has had a difficult life and when I find myself considering the Big Escape, I am smacked by guilt and cannot bear the thought of causing her pain. To make matters worse, I met someone six months ago, a woman who is attractive, intelligent and compatible, whom I've grown physically and emotionally attached to, and when we had sex it was a joy and relief in ways I can't begin to describe here.
I've always considered myself a good person and don't like having an affair, but the friendship this woman provides is the only positive thing in my life at this point. Divorce terrifies me, yet I can't bear the thought of continuing to live like this: unhappy, dead to the world, my feelings and thoughts bottled up, masturbating in the shower every other day. Is there hope for me? What do I do about my wife whom I don't want to hurt? What do I do about my girlfriend whom I don't want to lose? What do I do about my inability to make a choice? I feel like I'm standing frozen, staring at the headlights of doom. I'm 35 and can't help but think I could have a grand life ahead of me if I could just ... do something.
Miserable
Dear Miserable,
You married awfully young and made the wrong choice. Many people choose wrong and struggle and eventually learn to make a sweet life together, but somehow the years have not brought you and your wife to a closer understanding. You can't hang onto this dreadful life simply in order to spare your wife pain -- she is already in pain -- and if there is no shared life at all, then it's hard to see where reconciliation can come in. As a matter of decency, however, you must discuss things with your wife, either on your own or through a counselor, and you must give her the chance to tell you what she has gone through. This is important, for the good of your soul. Don't flee the marriage before you bring about some process of gentle confrontation and confession and reminiscence and remorse with your wife. You can't take 15 years and simply throw it into a wastebasket without a decent requiem.
Dear Mr. Blue,
I'm an American man living on an island off the western coast of France in a high-paying, offshore kinda job and in an intense, passionate relationship with a very vivacious Welsh woman. We live together, are together all the time, go to sleep together, wake together, eat together, drink together, play together, and I love her dearly, but feel I'm being smothered by all her Welsh passion. My only means of escape from her, outside of work, is running ... and she's getting faster! Should I train harder?
Marathon Man
Dear Marathon,
Nice to hear from you. Asphyxiation at the hands of a naked foreign woman is what many of us American men dream about as we ride to and from work at our low-paying inland jobs. Enjoy your tragic fate and let us know if you need witnesses.
Dear Mr. Blue,
I am married to a man who is the soul of reliability, a tireless worker and a loving (if reserved) father to our two teenage children. He was my professor back when I was 21 and he was 32, and everyone thinks we were the perfect match. We are both bookish and intense, but he has evolved from a man of few pithy words into a man of virtually no words with me, apart from letting me know whether the dishes in the machine are clean or dirty. He seems to have two modes -- working (usually silently, alone) or reading (also silent and alone). I find myself angry and resentful at being alone yet married, and yet I am unwilling to leave because it would be so disruptive to the kids. Do you have any suggestions?
Bookworm's Spouse
Dear Spouse,
Your mate is engrossed in, or obsessed by, his work, and he needs to be interrupted. These habits of his can be powerful, but don't accept the arrangement. Even if he is Melville in the throes of writing "Moby-Dick," he needs to have some pleasant time with you talking about life and children and books beyond his ken. You're angry and resentful and this exacerbates the problem. Somehow you need to astonish him with a display of charm and affection and lure him from his lair into a restaurant where the two of you can talk. Break the ice, but don't use explosives; use warmth strategically applied. Then conspire toward a weekend together, then a week. Leave the children with relatives. You're not his student anymore, you're his equal, and you need to place yourself, smiling, in his path and engage him in talk.
Dear Mr. Blue,
It has been four months now since my heart was broken. She was "the one," or so it felt. As a middle-aged male, I'm wondering if I'll find a love like her again. The sense of loss is as great today as when she left. I spend much time with friends and have started dating, but despite my best efforts, the sadness and the tears are still with me. I find myself overwhelmed with emotion. How does one recover from such a loss and regain hope about the future?
Melancholy
Dear Melancholy,
You're doing the right things and keep on keeping on. But of course you won't find a love like her, so don't look for it. You can't replace what you lost; it's permanent. But once you accept that, be prepared to find something new that is beautiful on its own terms.
Dear Mr. Blue,
I'm 43, separated-
Waking to a Second Life
Dear Waking,
Ask him.
Dear Mr. Blue,
I often feel awkward when I talk to people, even good friends. I feel I am intelligent, thoughtful, sometimes even funny, but when I talk to someone whose opinion I care about, I find myself searching for the "right" response: a funny punchline, the most tender words, an insightful comment. My mind goes blank. I want to say the right things, want my boss to be impressed with my intelligence. How can I improve my conversational skills?
Loss for Words
Dear Loss,
I share the feeling. A good technique, when searching for words, is to ask the other person about himself, his opinion, his take on the situation, which he is almost always thrilled to provide; this simple gambit buys you some time, like a batter stepping out of the box to knock his cleats, and often it's enough time to come up with the response you want. But do remember that nobody bats 1.000 and that one hit in three at-bats is a pretty good day.
Dear Mr. Blue,
I've been in a relationship with someone I love very much for over a year now. We are good friends, but if I say to him that I'm sad, I don't want to go out, he gets very distant and doesn't know what to say or how to handle it. I am baffled why this man, who claims to love and care deeply for me, cannot deal with emotions. My mother and my friends say ALL men are this way, and I have to admit, my experience holds that to be true. I don't see the point in being in a partnership if I can't share my occasional misery as well as my frequent joy. Am I being unfair? Can he find a way to expand his emotional threshold?
Curious
Dear Curious,
Perhaps he feels a personal responsibility for your happiness, The Guy As Home Entertainer, and he takes your sadness as a reflection on his abilities to charm and captivate. I don't know. But what's wrong with his giving you some room when you're sad? Where is his inability to "deal with" your emotion? And why is he supposed to handle it? It's your sadness. You're a grown person, you deal with it. "I'm sad" can very easily be understood to mean "Leave me alone." If you want him to put his arms around you, ask him to. If you want to tell him why you're sad, tell him.
unpacking my life
Their Father is a Transsexual Woman
The plight of the single, middle-aged newcomer in Smalltown
The blank page and me. (more writer's block horror)
October 25, 2002