Dwindling Lust vs. Forever Love

As a teenager, I was infatuated with the idea of being in love. My heartbeat faster if a boy looked at me, a shared smile prompted hot flashes, and a conversation sent me to my journal to record the event. I still remember the day of my first kiss. John Smith walked me home from school and at the corner of my neighborhood, his 6-foot body bent down and kissed me. The purple lilacs were blooming, and the aroma overwhelmed my senses.

Though, it might add a little mystery to hide his identity, his name really was John Smith. The next day we said hi in the school halls, but we never kissed again. We were friends before the kiss and after, but I stood taller when near him just in case he wanted to relive the experience. To this day I do not know why we kissed but on that sunny spring day, I thought I was in love.

I call this emotional, physical response twitterpation. When people say they will love forever, they believe whole heartedly that such strong emotions can ever fade. Reminds me of the greatest love story of all time, Romeo and Juliet. From the time they met to the moment they married less than 24 hours transpired. Within four days both tragically died at their own hands.

As an adult I recognize these immediate emotions as lust, not love, but that doesn’t minimize the power of the feelings: excitement, happiness, safety, desire, euphoria, bliss, and pleasure. How was I to know at such a young age that John Smith had emotionally drugged me. His touch activated the release of dopamine, oxytocin, serotonin, and endorphins.

This article from Psychology Today explains how these natural chemicals effect the brain. - The Neurochemistry of Love: Love is a cocktail of brain chemicals. — Loretta G. Breuning Ph.D.

Many people believe in love at first sight without understanding there is more to a building a lasting relationship than a tingle of desire. A lasting, loving relationship develops overtime and requires actions.

Love after John Smith

In May of 1980, my senior year of high school, my girlfriend and I pulled up next to a 1969 Camaro painted midnight black with silver metal flakes that winked at me in the moonlight. Needless to say, I loved that car. After I got to know the driver, I discovered he wasn’t too bad either. To my surprise and enthusiasm, the driver, Randy, asked for my phone number. When he opened his glove compartment several papers with female names and phone numbers fell at my feet, creating doubts that he would ever call. I gambled by giving him my phone number.

Our first date began with a car wreck. I do not know if Randy consciously protected me or his coveted Camaro, but when we entered an intersection, he glimpsed an oncoming car and pressed the gas pedal which propelled us forward enough that the car missed slamming into my door and hit the back quarter panel. We spun around and stalled under the stoplight. A somber mood overwhelmed our date, and I remember little of the remainder of the night except that he protected me.

Without enough evidence to make an informed decision about our compatibility, we agreed to try again. Apparently, the earlier accident caused damage that we were unaware of because smoke billowed from the trunk. We quickly pulled to a side street on the strip to investigate and discovered a pinched wire from the previous accident had shorted. A man of many talents, Randy put out the fire and made temporary repairs making me feel safe.

I can’t pinpoint the exact moment I realized I felt happy at the thought of being with Randy. I found myself stealing glances to see if he was looking my way and hoping he was. We stopped planning dates and instead I showed up at his house and he at mine. Together became our norm.

Randy’s actions showed he cared long before we ever spoke of love. He rubbed suntan lotion on my back. When my mother was in the hospital, he spoon fed her. He made time to help my dad on the farm. When my stubbornness tried to start an argument, he refused to battle. Instead, he taught me to agree to disagree.

About a year after we met, we attended a car rally out of town. It was a delightful weekend without any dents, fires, or illnesses — until we drove home. As Randy drove, I relaxed in the passenger’s seat. I wore a halter top and he had removed his shirt to combat the heat because a 1969 Camaro offers no air conditioning and August is a scorcher in Idaho. When we drove through the small town of Hailey, Randy pointed out a Volkswagen, Rabbit with a police light randomly stuck on top driven by a man wearing a white cowboy hat. We both laughed at the of the image.

Apparently, the cop didn’t appreciate our sense of humor. He proceeded to follow us through town with his radar monitoring our speed until the red and blue lights signaled us to pull to the side of the road.

Long story short, he processed Randy’s license and reported it was suspended, hand cuffed him, and drove him to jail — shirtless. At the police station, we were granted a few moments to discuss the situation. We agreed I should return to Sun Valley to seek out assistance from somebody we knew since neither of us had money or a charge card.

I am proud to say my composure remained calm until I walked into the hotel room of some friends; then tears shook my body as I explained the situation. Several couples pooled enough money to post bail. I returned to the jail, posted bail, and drove while grinding gears in the dark down the windy road home. In the end a lawyer determined Randy held a valid license and expedited an end to the harassment.

Eventually, we enjoyed some dates without casualties. However, we learned that life is complicated and agreed we worked well together. Just over a year and a half, the decision to marry seemed natural. We not only survived the problems that were thrown at us, but we supported each other.

No fancy proposal occurred just an understanding that we enjoyed life more when we both rode in the same car. On September 19, 1981, we married, and our Camaro carried us away to a life of adventure.

While still in high school, I remember reading a poem that made me stop and think. It was short and simple but poignant. Unfortunately, I don’t remember the author.

Dwindling Love

I Will Love You Forever

I Will Love You

I Will Love

I Will

I

— Author unknown

When I read it today, I think the title should be Dwindling Lust because love is forever — at least ours is. With some writer’s license I’ve rewritten this poem by inverting it and retitling the final result. We all start out alone. If we open ourselves up to someone a bond forms and grows. True love doesn’t happen in a moment or even over a couple days or month. It develops over time until two really do become one. Randy is my forever love.

Forever Love

I

I Will

I Will Love

I Will Love You

I Will Love You Forever

— Brenda Mahler