A Relationship Based on the Possible

In my early 20s, before my marriage, I went with my wife-to-be to Connecticut for a visit with my parents. It was not their first meeting. My mother and father had spent time with us in New York and we had not kept from them the fact that we were living together. In those days, this was not a common occurrence, but in spite of their traditional attitudes, we felt no pressure to repair what they certainly saw as a breach of acceptable social behavior.

So I was unprepared for my mother’s announcement, upon our arrival, that my not-yet-wife and I would be occupying separate rooms. I was given to understand, in no uncertain terms, that while what I did in my home was my business, what went on in hers was a different matter.

Now, many years later, I sleep with another woman. And true to my original design, it is without benefit of marriage. But this time she is no bride-to-be. In fact we’ve been living together for eight years and have no plans to alter the arrangement. Now when we visit my mother, there isn’t any question of separate rooms or mention of improper behavior. Perhaps the reason is that for the last few years my mother also has been half of an unmarried couple. Times change and people change with them. Some of us simply change sooner than others.

Which is not to say that ours is an idea whose time has come. Just last week I was asked--again--why, if we live together as husband and wife, we don’t get married, and again I answered that I hadn’t yet found a good reason why we should. Our children are grown. We have separate jobs and independent incomes. We feel no need for official sanction or any desire to fulfill other people’s expectations. We like it the way it is.

Teen-Age Infatuation

In the days of our courtship, my new-found lover and I were like teen-agers in their first infatuation. We whispered. We giggled. We hugged and kissed in public places. We went on picnics, to concerts, nightclubs, theaters; we crammed every moment together with as much pleasure as humanly possible. And then she went home to her daughters and I to my sublet apartment.

We had both recently been released from long, unhappy marriages, and in those early days we only wanted to play. We were smitten not just with each other, but with our freedom, and we created a delirious and totally unreal existence.

Naturally, it couldn’t last. Eventually, we made the choice between enjoying ourselves into an early grave or growing up, only to discover all over again that growing up is hard to do. In stereotypical male-female fashion, she wanted more and I wanted less, and behaving like the children we were, we solved the problem by breaking up.

For a time we dated others or went out with friends or spent free time alone. We were miserable. We held out as long as we could and then, just like an old, bad Hollywood movie, we were back in each other’s arms, terrified because this was no longer a game. This was serious business.

To Marry or Not?

In the next months, the most difficult question we faced was whether to marry. There was one for and one against. It was a fundamental dilemma that represented, for her, commitment and being taken care of; for me, loss of freedom and obligation to provide. In the beginning, it was a recurrent theme, but as we came closer, the issue seemed to recede of its own volition. After a couple of years, years of career changes, of sharing parental joys and agonies, of becoming each other’s family, we moved in together. Now, after eight more years, we are an old couple, still unmarried, still hugging, still kissing. I think we’ve done something right.

Over time, though marriage became irrelevant to us, it did not to others. Often I am asked if not wanting to formalize our relationship isn’t simply a way of avoiding commitment, of leaving myself an easy escape route if things don’t work out. In the beginning, the answer was yes. The truth is that either of us can leave at any time, and should one of us make that decision, we will not be faced with the ritual imposed by laws and attorneys and courts. Whatever else may be, divorce lawyers are not part of our future.

It’s amusing to me that while what we are doing is commonly known as “living in sin,” in fact we are embarrassingly prosaic. I know married men who have made a career of extramarital affairs, but who wouldn’t think of leaving their wives. I’ve met married women whose entire demeanor is seductive but whose faces, in unguarded moments, are unbearably sad. Acting single while still married is a difficult role to play, and the boastful men and coy women don’t fool anyone, least of all themselves.

None of the unmarried couples I know is unfaithful. Perhaps because they’ve all been married and are aware of the damage it does. Perhaps because if they were more attracted to someone else, they wouldn’t be together.

In our case, it is because we have agreed not to be unfaithful. When we separated, early in the relationship, each of us became involved with someone else, and later we knew that caused us both great pain. Our fidelity is not based on a list of shalts and shalt nots created by people who are not us, anonymous others who decided how we should live our lives. It is a promise we have given each other freely, a vow between two consenting adults that feels natural and right, and that is enough.

During the years of our non-marriage, the challenge, for me, has been to learn how a man and a woman can live happily together when no one is telling them they must. It is a continuous process--of accommodation, of trial and error, of success and failure. Like all couples, we are students learning a lesson for the first time. It has been for us to define ourselves, and the only guidelines we’ve had are those we made.

Early on we decided not to make promises about the future. We knew from experience that today’s feelings may not be tomorrow’s. Nevertheless, we have stayed together while many of our married acquaintances have not. I think it is because our relationship is based on the possible rather than the ideal. What began as a marvelous game deepened into friendship and respect until now we are together simply because we care. As long as the caring lasts, so will we.