Quirks --- we all have them. You know, those little idiosyncrasies that dot our presence with a unique touch of eccentricity --- the loud peel of laughter that sounds like it came from the first cousin of a hyena, the need to sleep with our socks on (black ones, no less), the gift of exaggeration when we tell a story, the loud sneeze in public that makes everyone within 10 feet run for cover. And the list goes on.......
It is not unusual to find that when love is fresh (for example, in the infatuation stage) we can often overlook these little warts (and sometimes, they are even a source of endearment --- ah, love is blind). But as time wears on, so do these quirks. What was once just a little idiosyncrasy can begin to take on all the subtlety of fingernails scraping up and down on the black board.
I suspect that many of us have seen couples fall out of love over mere quirks. [By the way, isn't that a weird term --- "fall out of love" --- as if we were walking along on solid ground and then suddenly we slip and fall in a hole? Actually, "falling out of love" is more like "growing out of love" --- it is a process and we have an ongoing part to play in that process.] At any rate, it is always painful for me to watch a couple who have a lot going for them slowly grow out of love over little eccentricities.
A while back I went to coffee with one of my former students (Dave) and his new love interest (Ashley). Dave had been with lots of women during his university days, but now he had started to get serious about finding someone with whom to spend the rest of his life, and he and Ashley had been dating for close to 2 years. It was obvious that the two of them enjoyed each other's company a lot, they shared many things in common, and their care about (and for) each other was clear. It was actually fun to be with the two of them, the love was that obvious.
But an odd thing seemed to be going on under the table. Every once in a while I got the impression that Dave was getting kicked in the shins. It wasn't obvious enough to say anything at the time, so I dismissed it as one of those errant intuitions that is best left unmentioned. But a few days later Dave e-mailed me and asked if we could get together.
Dave is one of those free-spirited, lovable young men who slurps whatever he is drinking, dribbles whatever he is eating, and frequently blurts out whatever comes to mind (only later thinking about the possible implications of what has been said). As it turns out, these quirks did not go unnoticed by Ashley --- and Dave was indeed getting kicked in the shins under the table.
What to do about quirks! We all have them! And they can lead to the slow erosion of love!
I have a friend that I have known for years. He lost his wife to breast cancer close to 8 years ago. I was talking with him recently in the locker room after working out and he said: "You know, John, when Ann was alive it was so irritating when she would laugh. She had one of those loud, shrill laughs (almost like a tornado siren). Unfortunately, I had a heart the size of a pea when Ann was alive. I would actually get so annoyed when she laughed that I let it get in the way of my love for her. I have to tell you, I would love to hear that laugh again."
As for Dave and Ashley --- I am still waiting to hear whether Ashley has a heart the size of a pea. If she does, it will be unfortunate, because it will be one more example of a couple who has a lot going for them, but for whom the mole hill of quirks has become a mountain of contention.
When hearts are small, love has very little chance of survival.
