On the differences between men and women…
Let’s say a guy named Paul is attracted to a woman named Elizabeth. He asks her out to a movie; she accepts; they have a pretty good time. A few nights later he asks her out to dinner, and again they enjoy themselves. They continue to see each other regularly, and after a while neither one of them is seeing anybody else. Then, one evening when they’re driving home, a thought occurs to Elizabeth, and, without really thinking she says it aloud; “Do you realize that as of tonight, we’ve been seeing each other for exactly six months?”
And then there is silence in the car. To Elizabeth, it seems like a very loud silence. She thinks to herself; “Um, I wonder if it bothers him that I said that. Maybe he’s been feeling confined by our relationship; maybe he thinks I’m trying to push him into some kind of obligation he doesn’t want, or isn’t sure of.”
And Paul is thinking: “Wow! Six months.”
And Elizabeth is thinking: “But, hey, I’m not so sure I want this kind of relationship, either. Sometimes I wish I had a little more space, so I’d have time to think about whether I really want us to keep going the way we are, moving steadily toward … I mean, where are we going? Are we just going to keep seeing each other at this level of sociability? Are we heading towards marriage? Towards children? Towards a lifetime together? Am I ready for that level of commitment? Do I really even know this person?”
And Paul is thinking: “… so that means it was … let’s see … February when we started going out, which was right after I had the car at the shop, which means … lemme check the odometer … Whoa! I am way overdue for an oil change here.”
And Elizabeth is thinking: “He’s upset. I can see it on his face. Maybe I’m reading this completely wrong. Maybe he wants more from our relationship, more intimacy, more commitment, maybe he has sensed – even before I sensed it – that I was feeling some reservations. Yes, I bet that’s it. That’s why he’s so reluctant to say anything about his own feelings. He’s afraid of being rejected.”
And Paul is thinking: “ I’m gonna have them look at the transmission again. I don’t care what those morons say, it’s still not shifting right. And they better not try to blame it on the cold weather this time. What cold weather? It’s 87 degrees out,.”
And Elizabeth is thinking: “He’s angry. And I don’t blame him. I’d be angry, too. I feel so guilty, putting him through this, but I can’t help the way I feel. I’m just not sure.”
And Paul is thinking: “They’ll probably say it’s only a 90-day warranty. That’s exactly what they’re gonna say, the scumbags!”
And Elizabeth is thinking: “Maybe I’m just too idealistic, waiting for a knight to come riding up on his white horse, when I’m sitting right next to a perfectly good person, a person I enjoy being with, a person I truly do care about, a person who seems to truly care about me. A person who is in pain because of my self-centered, schoolgirl romantic fantasy.”
And Paul is thinking: “Warranty? They want a warranty? I’ll give them a darn warranty. I’ll take their warranty and...”
“Paul” Elizabeth says aloud.
“What?” says Paul, startled.
“Please don’t torture yourself like this,” she says, her eyes beginning to brim with tears. “Maybe I should never have … Oh my, I feel so…” (She breaks down sobbing.)
“What?” says Paul.
“I’m such a fool,” Elizabeth sobs. “I mean, I know there’s no knight. I really know that, It’s silly. There’s no knight, and there’s no horse.”
“There’s no horse?” says Paul.
“You think I’m a fool, don’t you?” Elizabeth says.
“No!” says Roger, glad to finally know the correct answer.
“It’s just that … It’s that I… I need some time,” Elaine says.
(There is a 15-second pause while Paul, thinking as fast as he can, tries to come up with a safe response. Finally, he comes up with one that he thinks might work.) “Yes,” he says.
Elizabeth, deeply moved, touches his hand. “Oh, Paul, do you really feel that way?” she says.
“What way?” says Paul.
“That way about time,” says Elizabeth.
“Oh,” says Paul. “Yes.”
(Elizabeth turns to face him and gazes deeply into his eyes, causing him to become very nervous about what she might say next, especially if it involves a horse. At last she speaks.)
“Thank you, Paul” she says.
“Thank you,” says Paul.
Then he takes her home, and she lies on her bed, a conflicted, tortured soul, and weeps until dawn, whereas when Paul gets back to his place, he opens a bag of Doritos, turns on the TV, and immediately becomes deeply involved in a rerun of a tennis match between two Czechoslovakians he never heard of. A tiny voice in the far recesses of his mind tells him that something major was going on back there in the car, but he is pretty sure there is no way he would ever understand what, and so he figures it’s better if he doesn’t think about it. (This is also Paul’s policy regarding world hunger.)
The next day Elizabeth will call her closest friend, or perhaps two of them, and they will talk about this situation for six straight hours. In painstaking detail, they will analyze everything she said and everything he said, going over it time and time again, exploring every word, expression, and gesture for nuances of meaning, considering every possible ramification. They will continue to discuss this subject, on and off, for weeks, maybe months, never reaching any definite conclusions, but never getting bored with it, either.
Meanwhile, Paul, while playing racquetball one day with a mutual friend of his and Elizabeth’s, will pause just before serving, frown, and say: “Norm, did Elizabeth ever own a horse?”
Vikki Hoobyar, M.S. is a happily married Licensed Marriage and Family Therapist at Sequoia Counseling Services in Redwood City. She holds a weekly therapy groups for women and can be reached at email@example.com or 650.761.1657.