Dear Mr. Blue,
My husband is a talker. He is a man of many enthusiasms and will vigorously opine about any of them, talking in paragraphs and subparagraphs, with each point laid out and dissected. He will vigorously oppose any dissenting opinions. If interrupted, he will start over at the beginning and demand that you listen to his whole argument before responding. For most people expecting a normal conversation, his behavior is at best boring and at worst extremely annoying. He is aware of this, and in certain situations tries to restrain himself, but the self-monitoring makes him painfully self-conscious and inhibited and "not-himself." He feels, and I have to agree with him, that it is just the way he is. He is a larger-than-life personality, incredibly intelligent with a great enthusiasm for learning new things, having adventures and creating amazing projects, so a lot of people are willing to put up with the one-sided conversations. However, in the past three months, six of his friends have independently complained to me about his overbearing behavior. My dilemma is whether I should tell my husband about these comments. If I do, I know he will feel hurt and defensive. On the other hand, I feel sad that he may be driving some of his friends away, and wonder if there isn't some way to broach the subject that won't be so traumatic.
The Monologuist's Wife
Dear Wife,
Let the friends figure things out for themselves; if they complain to you, tell them to deal with him directly. If they're driven away, let him figure it out for himself, and if he wants to make amends, let him learn how to do it. Your interference is only going to confuse things. And, honestly, it's not your problem. You seem to be quite OK with your husband's big personality, and that's the important thing. If I were his friend, I probably would've dropped him years ago, since I have a low tolerance for monologues and lectures in social situations. I have no interest in being someone's disciple. But why should he inhibit himself to please me? I'm a Midwesterner with a passion for quiet good manners and understated styles. A wimp, in other words. For every lost friend like me, I'm sure he'll pick up three new friends who enjoy being in his gravitational field.
Dear Mr. Blue,
I met my first love when I was 18 and in college. He was intelligent, funny, thoughtful and kind, and after five years together I left to go to Europe -- I was sick of my job, and feeling antsy and claustrophobic -- with the understanding that he'd join me here when he'd finished the project he was working on. But now I've met this wonderful Dutch guy and we have great fun together. I am not really beating myself up over getting involved with another person. Although we are intimate, things are still pretty casual. But it's driving me nuts! On one hand, I feel like my old boyfriend is more "like" me. But I like how I feel as if I'm a different person with my Dutch boyfriend -- more passionate, sexual. My boyfriend back home feels like a brother. I'm only 24, Mr. Blue, and I know for sure that I'm not ready to start thinking about houses and babies and serious issues, such as the ones brought up when you've been in a five-year relationship. But on the other hand I can really talk with my old boyfriend.
My old boyfriend is coming over soon, and I can't wait to see him. He's invited me to come with him on some trans-Asian train trip. Am I just scared of something serious? Is my new Dutch love just a distraction? Or is the old one just that -- old? I don't want to mess people around. I just feel like I can't make a decision at all.
Discombobulated in Dublin
Dear Dublin,
The first decision is whether to introduce these gentlemen to each other and perhaps form a trio. Probably not a good idea. So you should give Hans a leave of absence and turn your attention to the First Love and see how things stand. The sentence that leaps out is "My boyfriend back home feels like a brother." If this means that you don't have sexual feelings toward him, and if you're sure about this, then you should find a kind way to tell him that spares him humiliation and suffering. Tell him in person while you're sitting in St. Stephen's Green or Merrion Square or walking around the streets of that good graystone city. Tell him that things have changed and that you cherish the five years and you see him now as a friend and confidant and not as a mate. Take him to a good pub where he can look around and see that he isn't the first man to be disappointed in life. And enjoy the intimacy that honesty and clarity can create between people, that is better than play-acting. As for your Dutch love, he's a diversion, a fulcrum, an agent of knowledge and change, but probably not a good bet in the long run. Maybe you went to Europe to escape the comfortable clutches of this five-year serial. Time to come home.