Beware the Ultimate Relationship Killer
I only ever have one nightmare about my husband.
It starts after something consequential has happened between us — I never know what — and in the aftermath of this unnamed incident, he has lost all feelings of love for me. He doesn’t yell, he doesn’t insult me, he doesn’t even leave or threaten to leave. He just sits there looking at me with scorn and ignoring all my attempts to understand what’s happening and to show and seek out signs of affection. He simply doesn’t care, and he pities me because I do. And it’s the most terrifying thing I can imagine in our marriage.
I usually wake up from this nightmare by crying out, which of course wakes up my husband too. I’ve tried explaining to him why I’m shaking and in tears, but it comes out as nonsense. When he hears the bad dream was about him, he probably imagines a scenario where he gets bitten by a snake (my greatest non-relationship fear). I don’t know if he’d understand that what I’m actually most afraid will befall him is indifference.
I used to think the worst end to a love story would involve feelings of hate. But as time went on and I learned more about serious, long-term relationships, I realized that hate has an upside: it is still a sign of life. You can’t hate someone unless their existence affects you in some way, and that means there is a lingering emotional connection — one that has some faint hope of shifting back toward love.
What committed partners truly need to fear, I believe, is the draining of all meaningful feeling, of all the energy to care, of all the will to fight for the relationship. When indifference seeps in to fill that gap, it suffocates hope, and I’m not sure it ever goes away. You can’t reignite a flame if there is nothing there to burn.
There’s a distinction between true indifference and the feigned indifference most of us have tried out more than once (“I don’t want to be too obvious, so I’m just going to pretend I don’t notice him across the room,” and so on). Feigned indifference tends to involve avoiding eye contact and sustained interaction to an exaggerated degree, usually with the motive of getting the other person to desire the attention we’re withholding from them. Someone who is truly indifferent, however, will look you dead in the eye and may even engage in a substantial dialogue with you, but there will be a total absence of emotion, a complete severing of the invisible connection you two used to have.
If you have looked into the eyes of someone you love and seen nothing but a solid wall, then you understand the emotional shutdown that is indifference. I have been there too (fortunately not with my husband) and I wouldn’t wish it on anyone. Nothing hurts quite as much as being on the receiving end of apathy from the person who has your heart in their hands.
Unlike in my nightmare, of course, love doesn’t disappear without explanation or instantaneously. It is irrational and self-destructive to live in constant fear that our partners will stop caring for us overnight. But that doesn’t mean we should be blind to warning signs that our feelings aren’t being reciprocated the way they used to be, and to address that shift if we do start to see it. We can’t control the entire course of our relationships and we certainly can’t control another person’s feelings, but paying attention, really listening to one another, and being willing to have hard conversations can do a lot to help get things back on track when they seem to be drifting.
And what about when that effort fails? The only positive thing I can say about indifference is that once you recognize it in a partner — once you’re ready to recognize it, that is — you can use it as a starting point for your own path to finding someone new, someone who will receive your love and give you love in return. Indifference is a barrier you can’t force your way through; the only remaining option is turning around and starting to walk the other way. Read More...