I'm utterly preoccupied

I'm so in love that I can't get any work done and I'm mooning over him all the time!

By Cary Tennis
June 9, 2003 11:07PM (UTC)
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Dear Cary,

I'm having a felicitous and paradoxical problem, one that really needs to get fixed, but that I really don't want to fix at all. You see, I'm in love.

I've had my share of crappy relationships and had all but given up on dating, but for the last five months, I've been with a downright wonderful man and couldn't be more pleased. We're both a little tentative by nature and also seem to be looking for the same things, so the usual pressures brought to bear on a relationship by one person wanting something more than the other are nonexistent. This has allowed an unexpectedly easy, generous, almost organic love to grow between us.


So what's the problem? I'm utterly preoccupied by being in love, and I'm having an impossible time focusing on the things that need to get done. I think about him all the time. One expects this kind of giddiness at the very beginning of a relationship; after all, that's what makes it so much fun. But by now, I would have thought I'd be able to settle into the idea of us and not be so besotted. Instead, I'm constantly a wreck. For instance, I'm still mooning over kissing him goodbye this morning before work, that little thrill at being so adored, and I can't seem to concentrate on anything but the anticipation of feeling that little thrill again.

I'm a perfectionist, and I have a strong work ethic, and this being-in-love business (or at least how I'm handling it) is hindering my ability to get things done. I really don't want to say goodbye to this phase because it is so much fun -- I mean, how lucky am I to be in such an abundantly healthy and requited relationship? -- but I miss my former productive self. Is there any hope for me?

Still Sighing


Dear Still Sighing,

You're in luck! You've won! You're in love! Go with it. Don't worry about the work. It'll get done eventually. This love is a gift to you, forcing you to screw up a little, to get dirty. Let love's glorious chaos mess up your life a little. Let it go on as long as it will because, tragically, it never lasts long enough.

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Cary Tennis

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