Our Sainsbury's couple are what is known as `an item', a term which is more than a mere figure of speech, for they who were once an item each have become a corporate entity---one mind, one spirit, one flesh. And, while we're inclined to discuss the terminology, how they profit from the lack of distinction between `you' singular and `you' plural! You don't see what I'm driving at? Just try asking one of them a question.
What are you doing tonight?See what I mean? And there they are---they've just turned up in the bar after the movie. Watch this.Oh, we're going to watch `When Harry Met Sally'.
Hey, are you happy?Now we're getting somewhere. What did that reply really mean? `Deliriously' is such a ludicrous hyperbole that, if I didn't know my friend better, I would take it for sarcasm. But that's not the point. The point is that my friend does not know the answer to my question, for the reply does not mean `I am deliriously happy and so is my lover.'---it means `Lover, I will be deliriously happy if you tell me that you are also.' It is conditional happiness. It is dependency. `No.' replies my friend's lover, and the three of us laugh at the joke.Deliriously, aren't we?
Time to dig just a little deeper, I think. I'll invite one of them to come round for a meal. You see, he happens to be rather keen on aubergines, and so am I. She hates them, so he never gets to eat them these days, even though he does the cooking. Or maybe I'll just offer her a cigarette and smile one of those knowing sororial smiles. `Back off!' I hear you say, but what am I really guilty of? Surely there's no intrinsic emotional harm in an aubergine or a cigarette? My crime is merely to treat the `item' as two distinct individuals, thus bringing out all that distressing possessiveness and jealousy. We've found out what we should have guessed (and maybe did guess) from all those romantic adventure movies. Love is fear. `I love you.' means `I'm afraid you'll go.'.
My friends' relationship will not last, precisely because it is founded on fear. The dependency which keeps them together is something they both instinctively resent. Nobody is comfortable with insecurity---a truth which is practically a definition. Ultimately one of them will break out of it, at which point the affair will become extremely tedious for the little while of it which remains. The other will break out of it too, after an initial period of uncomprehending dejection. If they're fortunate, they'll hold onto themselves next time.
Where do you go from here? How do you escape from your own insecurity? If the key to happiness is security, then the key to security is control. In a mature relationship, you do not surrender yourself to some corporate `item' which you fear losing. Instead, you stay in control. If you can't just walk away, then you're heading for disaster. If you are doing what you want to do, if you're actually making a free choice, then your actions can only reinforce your self-respect. Some say that staying in control makes your relationships shallow and antiseptic. These people are simply complaining that you're too well-adjusted, that you're just not terrified enough and that you're having too much fun. If that's how they feel, then that's their problem.
Of course, that's not all there is to it---a relationship needs two. If your partner is similarly inclined to individualism, then it should be possible to have an adult affair based on mutual respect, rather than mutual dependency. Furthermore, when things have run their course, there will be no need for recriminations.
It is, however, all too easy to become the object of other people's dependency problems. Provided you are honest about your attitude, this should not prove a bar to relationships. Make it clear that you cannot reciprocate their naivety and that their feelings are their own look-out. You cannot be held responsible for others' emotions. No one can blame you for enjoying the affection of a devoted little puppydog, nor for becoming irritated when it follows you around all the time.
Ultimately, though, you will have no choice but to `break the hearts' of your devotees, but there is no reason to feel guilty about this. Firstly, this devotion was, at least initially, freely given---you had no choice. Secondly, people who approach relationships in this immature way are going to have their hearts broken by somebody sooner or later---you will bring about a far quicker, cleaner and more instructive heartbreak than any Sainsbury's couple could manage---your former devotees will recover quickly and approach future relationships from a much more adult perspective.
One of my best friends specializes almost exclusively in breaking the hearts of naive young men, and, far from criticizing this behaviour, I strongly commend it as being the most socially generous form of emotional activity which is practically possible. Not only is it a joy to be in the company of such a happy and self-confident woman, but also one finds it immensely pleasurable to be surrounded by the constant stream of eminently sensible gentlemen emerging from her entourage.
From my position in university, I get to observe the process of dependency and heartbreak year in year out. It saddens me to see the same errors of judgment being made by fresher after fresher. If this article can get through to even a few of them, and cause them to still a fluttering heart with a steady analytical hand, then perhaps I may recover just a fraction of the faith in humanity I lost so long ago.