Loveology

As this story begins I, Brian Walker, had become an amateur "loveologist." Yeah, that really is a word; it obviously means someone who studies love. To my knowledge there are no professional loveologists in the West, but there are some in Eastern Europe and Russia. Anyway, I didn't become a loveologist for any reason aside from self-preservation. Let me explain.

I had been married ten years to Daphne and we had two kids, four and six years old, when suspicions started to creep into my brain. I had never doubted that I loved Daphne or she me since we first met twelve years ago. Some people say that "love at first sight" only exists in fairytales, but that's what I considered my reaction to her and her to me. We didn't even really talk more than twenty minutes during our first meeting, but it was magical -- and resulted in marriage less than two years later.

It's hard to explain why I was suspicious; it was a bunch of little things but I couldn't get them out of my mind and when I tried to put them together like a jigsaw puzzle the reveal was "she's cheating," even if some pieces of the puzzle were missing. Even without proof my revelation had a significant adverse effect on me, which because I'm a scientist by trade -- a chemist -- I decided that I needed to make an in-depth analysis of my situation, feelings, environment, and relationships.

Aside from the obvious very, very, major complicating factor -- our two kids -- there was another problem. I had a confusing reaction to one of our married joint friends; Gail Stafford, and had that strange reaction every time that I saw her since I met her four years earlier. Gail has a daughter the same age as my daughter and they went to pre-school together. I say that I had a confusing "reaction" to her rather than "relationship" because we'd never been one-on-one together aside from a few minutes at parties or kids' events, I'd never kissed her, had exchanged hugs only a handful of times, and I didn't specifically recall ever dreaming about sex with her even though -- probably like 99.9% of married heterosexual men -- I have dreamt of sexual encounters with Anne Hathaway, Gail Gadot, Amal Clooney, Kristi Noem (even though I hate her politics), Alex Morgan, Jennifer Lawrence, and other famous unattainable women.

Before I tried to "solve" whatever problem that I might have had I tried to learn everything possible about the scientific and clinical aspects of "love." The "scientific method" had always worked well for me during my education and career so I thought I'd give it a try even with something as esoteric as love. I vowed to avoid the anecdotal platitudes about love such as "Love means never having to say you're sorry," "Love conquers all," "Love is blind," and the dozens of other clichés espoused in normal life -- I was only interested in explanations as close to scientifically accurate as possible.

************

Probably the first thing that I learned is that most psychologists consider that there are distinct types of love for normal people (those without mental problems or clinical conditions like sociopaths or narcissists): Infatuation, Empty, Romantic, Companionate, Fatuous, and Consummate.

Passion is the key component of infatuation. If someone is physically attracted to another person but hasn't developed any emotional intimacy or established a commitment, it's infatuation.

"Empty love" is a committed relationship that lacks passion or intimacy. Examples include an arranged marriage or a previously emotional or physical relationship that's lost its spark.

When someone is romantically involved with another person, they share physical passion and emotional intimacy, but haven't made any long-term plans or commitments.

In companionate love someone is committed and emotionally connected, such as best friends or family. Marriages can also be companionate if the passion is gone, but someone still shares the commitment and emotional bond.

If someone has been swept up by passion into an engagement or marriage without emotional intimacy, this is fatuous love.

Consummate love is the goal for most people when they envision marriage or a spousal partnership. This kind of love includes commitment, passion, and emotional intimacy

In addition to the types of love, I also learned that love has a large chemical component -- which is right up my alley. According to actual scientific studies lust or infatuation (which can be fleeting or the first stage of love) is fueled by testosterone and oestrogen. Attraction (often the second stage of love) is characterized by dopamine, norepinephrine and serotonin flowing through the hypothalamus region of the brain. Attachment (frequently characterized as the clinching stage of love, including consummate love) is defined by oxytocin and vasopressin being produced in the hypothalamus.

The hormone oxytocin is so significant that it has sometimes been labelled as "the love chemical." Oxytocin is a versatile chemical messenger which facilitates many physical responses including assisting in the delivery of a baby, and as it relates to love it has the psychological role as the catalyst of social and romantic bonding. It is, in other words, similar to the fictionalized "magic potion" that mystically makes people fall in love. It has been proven that individuals who are in love have higher levels of oxytocin in their bloodstream.

There is hard evidence that love may even affect your immune system. A 2019 study found that falling in love resulted in immune system changes similar to protective viral infection responses. Using statistical data some scientists have even speculated that love might also provide some level of a safeguard against cancer.

The lack of the hormones and neurotransmitters cited above can have significant adverse effects. When love isn't reciprocated someone may experience Takotsubo's cardiomyopathy, the medical term for what laymen call a "broken heart." Takotsubo's cardiomyopathy physically and chemically affects the muscles of the heart and can be life-threatening. In extreme cases unrequited love can actually "break your heart!"

Since in addition to my Master Degree in Chemistry I extensively studied biology in undergraduate school I believe that I got a good handle on the physiological effects of the "love chemicals." That alone led me to several preliminary assumptions, although those would have to be further examined to come to final conclusions.

I tried as best as I could to determine what effects my informed speculations about Daphne's cheating had on my physiological responses to her and what types of corrective or protective actions I could take to mitigate any physiological responses. I knew that divorce was absolutely the last resort because of the children. My six year old son required special attention -- he had a so far undiagnosed condition that made him emotionally fragile despite the fact that he was physically imposing to the extent that he was the largest and strongest six year old in our experience. My four year old daughter truly was a "daddy's girl," who relied on my attention to her for self-confidence and happiness. I could not even contemplate only a part-time life with them especially since the type of love that I had for them, unlike a "romantic-type" of love, was due to an innate biological function akin to breathing, and wasn't influenced to a significant extent by the hormones and neurotransmitters previously described.

My next step in my evaluation -- after ingesting all of the scientific chemical information that I could get my hands on -- was to evaluate my reaction to Gail Stafford. One thing that I had going for me in that regard was that Gail is a professor of psychology at a local community college so I could manufacture a suitable pretext for interfacing with her.

I called Gail up at her office and told her that I was strangely motivated to do an article, or maybe even a book, on the scientific underpinnings of love. I invited myself either over to her school when she had a completely free period, or to lunch at my expense -- her choice. She actually had a lilt in her voice when we talked, and she chose the latter.

The lunch ended up lasting two hours -- fortunately neither of us had real pressing work situations that day so that it didn't affect our jobs. I thought that I was doing a good job of faking discussions that related to my "article or book," until about fifteen minutes before we left to go back to work. I apparently didn't give Gail enough credit for being as perceptive as she is because after I wrote down what I later realized was a bullshit answer that she gave to one of my questions she looked me in the eye and asked "What is this really about Brian?"

"What do you mean?" I stammered.

"You're not writing an article; you're trying to analyze something in your life. I can think of four possible scenarios why you're doing that but rather than making me guess which one is your motivating factor why don't you just tell me?" Gail snickered.

Since I'm not a very good actor and Gail is good at reading people I knew that I was busted. Still I persevered without outright lying to her. "Uh, geez, Gail, I don't know what scenarios you're talking about," I replied as an unwelcome and telling drop of sweat dripped from my forehead onto my nose.

After staring at me for a few seconds she replied "OK, if you want to play dumb, I'll play along -- up to a point. Scenario #1, you and Daphne are going through a rough patch and you want some free marriage counselling; #2 you are thinking of bailing on Daphne and are looking for some justification; #3 you're trying to find out information to help a mutual friend that you don't want to identify."

I sat stone-faced for a while, with more sweat beads forming on my forehead. Without anything else to say I asked the obvious question. "You said four scenarios, that's just three."

"I was hoping to avoid the fourth one in the unlikely event that I'm wrong about the premise, but since you're being such an ass I'm going to say it," she sneered more than said. "#4 is that you have what may be infatuation with me or maybe the first stage of attraction, and you're fishing for a way to find out if it's reciprocated," she continued with an icy stare.

I knew then that the jig was up but I didn't want to concede defeat. After trying to return her stare for a few seconds, however, I wilted, put my arm on the table, and buried my head in it. I sat there like that for a good minute before I lifted my head up. "I guess that it was a bad idea to try and fool someone as smart and perceptive as you are. I apologize."

"I accept your apology, but I still need to know what scenario or scenarios it is; spill," she commanded.

I sighed deeply then replied "#1 and likely #4 too."

"That explains the sweaty palms, the obvious increase in heart rate, and uncharacteristic stammering when you're around me sometimes. Of course I recognized it but thought that I was probably mistaken because your wife Daphne is much sexier than I am," Gail chuckled.

"You've really noticed those physical manifestations?" I asked, truly perplexed.

"When we talk one-on-one, or you think that I'm not looking; YES. And just so we're clear I haven't done anything to encourage you and don't intend to, despite the fact that you're the sexiest guy I know personally. I mean Tom Brady and George Clooney have you beat, but no one that I actually know," she smiled.

Now sweat was pouring out of my forehead -- and my palms were just as wet.

After a pregnant pause I replied "Wow; I'm really surprised to hear you say that."

"That I said it, or that it's true?" she snickered.

"Both, I guess," I replied.

"You're probably between the infatuation and attraction stages as it relates to me, where testosterone and dopamine are running rampart in your brain's hypothalamus. If you really got to know me I doubt that you'd have the same attraction to me that you do to Daphne; the brain chemicals are always more potent when only your brain is imagining and your body has not caught up. I mean the brain is by far the most important sex organ," she chuckled.

I guess that I shouldn't have been surprised that a PhD in psychology would know this shit even if she wasn't a loveologist.

Gail stood up, smiled at me and said "I'm going to the little girls' room; you should pay the check and after you do you should walk me to my car." Then she walked away, profoundly swinging her bulbous ass as she did so.

As I paid the check for lunch I was deflated and seriously aroused at the same time. When we got to her car she grabbed me by the tie and pulled my face toward hers then stage-whispered "Don't think that because I know what you're up to that you can't succeed; it just will probably take more work that you're willing to put into it, and a significant change in attitude." Then she pressed her lips to mine for a good ten seconds, slid into her car careful to give me a good view of her long sculptured legs as she did so, and then she took off without a backward glance.

I was seriously befuddled; I was even more confused when in the three minutes it took me to walk to my car I got a text from Gail saying "Thanks for lunch; you should call me again; or in the alternative see..." followed by a website URL. I clicked on the website and it had a list of techniques for emotional regulation strategies. Was she telling me to pursue her or was she giving me advice on how to stop lusting after her?

Despite being as confused as a chameleon in a bag of Skittles on my drive back to my office I was able to get done what I needed to at work by about 4:30. Then I re-read Gail's text and on my computer went to the website that she mentioned in it. As she represented the website had various techniques for how to adopt various emotional regulation strategies (i. e. stop thinking about Gail). The techniques that the website championed were:

• "Situation selection: avoiding or seeking situations based on how they make you feel.

• Distraction: engaging in another activity to reduce the strength of your feelings.

• Expression suppression: hiding how you feel.

• Cognitive reappraisal: changing your thoughts so that your feelings can change."

I didn't think that these ideas were earth-shattering -- more like obvious and/or happy horseshit -- but I guess that wasn't the point. Gail was telling me I had two paths to take and had to decide which one.

***************

The next couple of weeks were an interesting time for me. Using all of the knowledge that I had obtained in my amateur loveologist endeavors, closely observing Daphne, and also intensely evaluating my feelings toward Gail, I came to some conclusions that if presented to me at the start of my quest I would have considered startling.

The first conclusion was that Daphne was very happy; as happy as at any time since I had met her. I attributed this to three things: The fact that the relationship that she had developed with me was true companionable love where we both felt comfortable with each other, but with a little bit of passion thrown in. The second conclusion was that she truly enjoyed our family unit and our interaction with our children even though the issues that our son had were challenging. [Our son was developing and that meant that we were doing the right things and we saw a rosier future for him and our family unit.] The third conclusion was that she very likely was getting the rush of chemicals in her brain from a new love affair which was the proverbial cherry on the top of her ice cream sundae life.

Now that I was more than 90% convinced that my three conclusions were correct I was faced with the question "what do I do?" Again, the idea of divorce was simply out because of my relationship with my children. The idea of confrontation was out too because that could only lead to misery and even if we stayed together would open up wounds. That led me to the knowledge that I should enjoy the chemical highs of "new love" as much as Daphne. So, fifteen days after having had lunch with Gail, and with her kiss and her words that preceded it: "Don't think that because I know what you're up to that you can't succeed; it just will probably take more work that you're willing to put into it, and a significant change in attitude," fresh in my brain I called her up and asked her to lunch again. This time I suggested a picnic lunch in a park about a mile from her office; "You bring the blanket, I'll bring the picnic basket," I chuckled over the phone.

I was very encouraged when Gail showed up to our picnic lunch in a very flattering outfit, and with her hair free-flowing in a very attractive manner that highlighted her long exotic neck. It was also encouraging that she gave me a quick kiss on the lips when we met. After chatting pleasantly about many subjects, both mundane and intellectual, and having finished our meal, I got to the point.

"Gail; I want you to know that I've examined my feelings toward you -- as you pointed out during our last luncheon, the brain is the most important sex organ -- and I've come to the conclusion that you cause 'love' chemicals to flow through my brain with the intensity of water in the Amazon river after a thunderstorm. I want a sexual/romantic relationship with you."

Gail smiled. "That's much more straightforward than you were the last time that we met; what gave you the balls to say that?"

"The fact that you said that I'm the sexiest guy that you actually know," I smiled in reply. "Unrequited 'love' wouldn't help my situation at all, but 'requited' love will."

Gail smiled more widely. "I told you that I'm not easy Brian, but I like to think that I'm worth the energy needed to pursue me."

With that I moved next to her, looked around to be sure that there were no wandering eyes, and then laid a twenty second passionate kiss on her lips. After that we stood up, folded the blanket together, and walked right next to each other, with our arms occasionally touching, back to our cars.

"I look forward to hearing from you," were her parting words as she moved the fingers of her right hand provocatively over my cheek.

As I drove back to work I confirmed to myself that I was on the right path; oxytocin and dopamine were whooshing through my brain and I was on a natural high.

The next three months I "courted" Gail with progressive degrees of intimacy. We never went backward, but went forward slowly. We did something together about once a week or ten days including going to art exhibits, daytime musical performances, hikes or bike rides, or lunches. We were only able to do this because our work schedules were flexible; we never took any time away from our families. At about the three month mark, after we spent our lunch hour in my van with me fingering her to orgasm and her giving me a hand job, we decided that it was time to take the final step.

"I have a free three hour period next Thursday," Gail said in a sing-song voice while reapplying her smudged lipstick, "from about 11 a. m. to 2 p. m. Can you get away then?"

"With this advance notice I'm sure that I can," I smiled while reattaching my tie. "Where should we meet?"

"The Holiday Inn on the far west side of town; on Ridge Road; why don't you get there as close to 11 a. m. as possible, get us a room and text me a room number in the form of a phone number with the last three digits being the room number; then wipe it from your phone."

I kissed her on the cheek as I dropped her off at her car, and went home singing a happy song to myself.

The next Wednesday was a life-changing experience for me. When Gail knocked on the door of room 204 at 11:18 a. m. I couldn't have been more excited. Surprisingly, however, we didn't act like jungle animals or cavemen. We slowly undressed each other, each very appreciative of the features of the other's body. When naked we showered together, Gail with a shower cap on, and once dry I lifted her up and carried her to the queen-sized bed in the room.