Husband and I were laying in bed, trying to fall asleep, when his iPod shuffled to the song that goes, “…and I can’t stop pretending that I don’t love you anymore…” I tried Googling the lyrics for this post but I can’t figure out the name of the song; found a song that had similar lyrics but wasn’t this song. Anyway, when we were laying there in bed, I mentioned to him that I’d never understood the song. The guy says he loves the woman, but then he says he’s lying and saying he doesn’t love her. I didn’t and still don’t get the point.
Husband said that I’d obviously never been in a situation where I had to lie and say I didn’t love someone to protect them. He tried to make the comparison to a recreational drug user accidentally getting his girlfriend addicted to drugs and then breaking up with her because he was her only drug supplier and she’d be free of the addiction if she was free of him. I asked why the guy wouldn’t just also quit drugs so they could be drug-free together. I also wondered how the guy could be sure the girl wouldn’t just find drugs somewhere else.
He said it was just an example…we ended up having a ridiculous argument about the lyrics to the song. I told him that there was no reason to lie and say you didn’t love someone. If you truly loved them you could work through anything. Otherwise it was infatuation or lust or some other emotional or physical reaction to the person, masquerading as true love. I told him how I’d gotten immediately over all of my past “loves,” all but for him. He made a huge speech about there being different types or planes of love.
I agreed that you can love your mother differently than your children, differently than your spouse, differently than humans in general, differently than your pet, differently than your favorite dessert. But I cannot see loving two different humans in the in-love-for-life sense. Not that it’s impossible for other people, just not something I can see. By having him disagree with me on this, my hormones convinced me that there was another person if not several other people that he still loves to this day and wishes he’d ended up with. I don’t want to know if it’s true or not. He tried to go to sleep, saying it was pointless to be arguing, something I did agree about. But there I was laying in the dark, tears silently streaming down my face–he asked if I was going to sleep or lay there thinking; I asked if I was thinking too loudly; he said yes!
I couldn’t get to sleep after that and tossed and turned for a while, still crying silently. At one point, I turned my back to him and tried to sleep; he got up to go to the bathroom and when he lay back down, he put an arm around my waist and rested his hand on my swollen abdomen. He does love me anymore! And now that I think about it, maybe I’m the person in his past that he lied about not loving, during one or all of our many break-ups.