Long-Term Love
We need a deeper conversation about relationships
March / April 2006
Julie Hanus Utne magazine
'Divorce,' I remember repeating dully, after my mother told me
my uncle was separating from the woman I always had known as aunt.
Silence separated us as I stumbled toward a meaning. 'You mean
they're not going to live together anymore?'
RELATED CONTENT
Be My Surreal Valentine February 13, 2002 Issue By Kate Garsombke Be My Surreal Valentine, Mary An...
Kiss romance goodbye--It's time for the real thing.In a snapshot taken at my first "wedding," I loo...
When dog speaks, man heels.......
Many international adoption agencies work not to find homes for needy children but to find children...
Downtown L.A.’s own citadel of skronk, the Smell lurks beneath faded purple neon down a dubious all...
I should have known better. I am, after all, the child of a
second marriage. My older half brother should have been proof that
not all relationships last forever. But my uncle and aunt were a
ritual presence in my childhood. My birthday meant a trip with them
to the city; holidays, a picturesque meal piled on their dining
room table. Each summer brought a picnic on their rural Wisconsin
farm. (Even a visit to their bathroom was a ceremonial occasion,
when I inspected the circle of shaving soap, a curiosity to a kid
accustomed to the hum of electric razors.) These undisturbed and
familiar patterns left little space to imagine anything would ever
change.
The easy explanation for my surprise is to say I was a kid. I
could have elaborated naively on 'love,' or 'getting married,' but
was oblivious to the guts of a long-term relationship. (Mattel
makes neither a Golden Anniversary Ken, nor a Trial Separation
Barbie.) My uncle's divorce was the first I had ever known, and I
had years to live before I would begin to understand the complex,
everyday arrangements of friends and family (to say nothing of my
own) as they got together, stayed together, and sometimes split
apart.
But even as we age, and complexities become commonplace, the
language of happy-ever-after seems to linger. Last time I checked a
popular website, where users declare their goals, more than 4,000
Net-savvy souls have signed up 'to fall in love.' More than 3,000
want 'to get married.' Only 32 aim 'to have a long-term
relationship.' And only a few exacting users have vowed 'to fall in
love with someone who will always love me back.'
The distinction is surely semantic; the terms love and marriage
imply, even assume, a long-term relationship. Yet 'true love
always' clearly beats 'long term' in the cachet department, and
these trends in diction also reflect our broader cultural
conversations.
To prove the point, spend a couple weeks in Utne's library of
more than 1,200 magazine titles. Try to find a how-to, or a
why-at-all, story on what makes a long-term relationship work -- an
honest description of the struggles, the joys, the petty betrayals,
the everyday triumphs of making a relationship last. I tried, and I
came up nearly empty-handed.
Page: 1 |
2 |
3 |
Next >>