Love And Marriage, by Randi Braun

*Some names and locations have been changed.

About a month ago, while I was updating the contact information part of my Facebook page, I noticed a particular profile photo in the little box of “My Friends” on the left-hand side of my screen. Five of the profile photos looked relatively normal: a face, a group of friends, a girlfriend with her boyfriend, etc. But the sixth one, which belonged to Marissa*, looked slightly out of the ordinary. It was a close-up of a hand. (Hmmm), I thought. (That’s weird). After saving my contact info, I directed my cursor toward the thumbnail of her photo. I wanted to see what this hand thing was all about. When I clicked on it, her profile loaded and I immediately exclaimed…

Me: Ewww…GROSS!!!

It wasn’t just a photo of any old hand. It was Marissa’s hand. Her left hand. And adorning her fourth digit was a large, oval-cut, diamond engagement ring. I almost threw up.

I know that many people are slightly repulsed when a newly engaged woman electronically flaunts her sparkly new engagement-promise into the faces of every one of the friends, acquaintances, and relative strangers with whom she is Facebook friends. This, however, does not bother me. Although I, myself, have not been engaged, I’m sure this is a very exciting time for a young woman, and I think it’s completely understandable for her to shout from the virtual rooftop that the man she loves has asked for her hand in marriage. In fact, if you and I are Facebook friends, don’t be surprised if, when the day comes that I’m engaged, I shout it from my virtual rooftop, too.

So then, why did my half-digested turkey sandwich nearly eject from my mouth when I saw Marissa’s Facebook photo? Well, I’ll tell you. I’ll start from the beginning:

I met Marissa a couple years ago through a mutual friend when she first moved into Manhattan. Since the only person she knew, other than our mutual friend, was her new roommate, I asked if she’d like to get coffee with me sometime. She seemed happy about my invitation, so we exchanged phone numbers and agreed to see each other soon.

About three weeks later, Marissa and I made a date to meet at a Starbucks in Manhattan’s Chelsea area. We started off chatting with some girl-talk. This was when Marissa shared with me that, since moving to the city, she had joined JDate. Coincidentally, I was also a member of this popular Jewish dating website, so we traded some stories. As it turned out, Marissa’s love-life was already riddled with drama.

Marissa: So…I met this guy. He’s 29, his name is Seth*, and he works in finance. We’ve hung out like four times, and I like him, but he kind of runs hot and cold with me. Like…some days he seems happy to see me, and other days, he tells me that he just wants to be alone.

This could have meant a couple things:

A) Seth didn’t particularly like her.

Or

B) Seth was bipolar.

I needed to know more.

Me: What else?

Marissa: Well…I really wish he would call me more often. You know, just to talk. I call him all the time, but he never calls me.

I was leaning more toward option “A.”

Marissa: I think he’s confused though. He’s never been in a relationship, so maybe he doesn’t really know how often he’s supposed to call.

Uh oh. I’ve heard that one about 2 million times. The old “Well, maybe he’s shy, or nervous, or inexperienced…and THAT’S why he’s not calling!” excuse. I think women use this rationalization as some sort of defense mechanism, to avoid having to admit that, “maybe he just doesn’t like me that much.” However, a man’s actions can usually be taken at face value. Meaning that, if Seth wasn’t calling her, it probably meant that talking to her wasn’t high on his list of priorities. That being said, Marissa’s situation didn’t exactly sound promising.

Marissa: And then….even when we DO talk, whenever I try to be emotional with him and figure out who he really is, he just clams up and closes himself off. So…I feel like I don’t even know him.

Yikes! Emotional disconnect. That’s Incompatibility 101. Sounded like these two needed to go their separate ways.

Me: Well, is there anything that you do like about him?

Marissa: Ummm, well, he’s Jewish. And he’s kind of a dork. And I like dorky guys. Although, he’s kind of a loner too, and I don’t really like that.

Then she sighed and said…

Marissa: I just don’t know what to do with him!

Wait, what? She doesn’t know what to do with him? Surely this emotionally closed-off loner, who didn’t seem particularly thrilled about Marissa’s presence in his life, couldn’t have been the only available Jewish dork in New York City. I gave her my two cents.

Me: It doesn’t sound like you and Seth are well-suited for each other.

She looked sad.

Marissa: Yeah, maybe not.

Strike 1 for Marissa’s new love life. Oh well. It wasn’t the worst thing in the world. I don’t think it’s very common to meet your other half within the first weeks of moving into a new city anyway. I figured Marissa would let this Seth thing fizzle out and get over it in a week or so. No big deal. We all learn from our experiences.

When Marissa and I had exhausted all of our girl-talk, and all of our coffee, we said goodbye and talked about getting together again at some point in the near future.

About two weeks later, on a Saturday night, Marissa called me from a bar and asked if I’d like to join her, her “boyfriend,” and a couple friends for drinks on the Upper East Side.

Boyfriend? Who on earth could be her boyfriend? Did she meet a new guy right after our girlie-date at Starbucks? But that was only two weeks prior. Who refers to a guy as her “boyfriend” after only two weeks? I was very curious.

Me: Ok, tell me where you are and I’ll be there soon.

My friend Amelia and I already had plans for the night, but I called and asked if she’d mind swinging by the Upper East Side with me before heading to our ultimate destination. Amelia was fine with this and within an hour, we were both headed uptown to Harvey’s Bar and Restaurant*.

When Amelia and I approached the bar, we saw Marissa and three others sitting at two adjacent two-top tables. Marissa was sitting at one of the tables with her arms folded and a face that was contorted into a pissed-off scowl. Across from her was some guy wearing a black blazer, who I just assumed was her boyfriend. Sitting next to Marissa, at the adjacent table, was some other girl. And across from Other-Girl was a guy wearing a light blue collared shirt, who seemed to have shifted his attention away from the group and onto more important things, like furiously sending text messages.

Marissa stood up and forced herself to smile as she introduced Amelia and me to the rest of the group.

Marissa: So, this is [Black-Blazer Guy].

Black-Blazer Guy waved and said hello.

Marissa: And this is [Other-Girl]

Other-Girl said hello, too.

Marissa: And this is Seth.

What?……Seth? Seth Seth???? I was shocked. What the hell were they still doing together? Was it possible that things had changed? And that he was warming up to her? And calling her? And opening his heart to her? I guess we were going to find out.

Amelia and I pulled up some chairs and tried to ease ourselves into the conversation. However, my previous four questions were answered when Amelia and I realized that this was a conversation of which we wanted no part. Angry tension hovered over the table as Marissa repeatedly declared her annoyance at Seth’s behavior. Seth, however, continued to ignore her in favor of texting, opening his mouth only to complain about Marissa’s nagging and to interject with the occasional, semi-morbid joke, which Marissa neither understood nor found funny.

After fifteen minutes of awkward pauses, Marissa demanding that Seth pay some attention to her, and Seth acting like that loner weirdo who wears a black overcoat to school and eats lunch alone in his car, Amelia and I excused ourselves to “use the restroom.” Marissa came with us too, and the moment we were out of earshot, I asked her…

Me: Are you and Seth in a fight or something?

She responded with…

Marissa: Ugh…no! This is just how he is.

Ex-squeeze me?

Me: So…are you always on each others’ nerves?

Marissa: Yeah, kind of.

Amelia and I each shot each other a look of confusion, and then advised Marissa to dump Seth the Weirdo in favor of someone she actually got along with. She didn’t seem too thrilled about our advice, but I was confident that she would make the appropriate next step by dumping this dude. After all, Marissa had been in long-term relationships before, so I just figured she was well-versed in the love department.

After the three of us used the restroom, we returned to the table and Marissa sat down. Amelia and I bid farewell to the doomed couple and their friends, said that it was “nice to meet them all,” and escaped from that horrid situation.

Marissa sent me a text message later that night, informing me that Seth was “still being a jerk.” After that, I never heard from Marissa again, which was fine. I knew after our meeting at Starbucks that she and I didn’t have the kind of connection that would warrant any type of lasting friendship. And so, I got on with my life, which brought me to last month; a year and a half after the night at Harvey’s. Now there was a diamond ring, a relationship status of: “Engaged to Seth Levine,” and a feeling of nausea in the pit of my stomach.

I couldn’t comprehend why those two would ever pledge “’Til death due us part.” One might make a case for assuming that their dynamic had changed, and that maybe they were “really in love” now. However, by looking at their respective Facebook photo albums, I would have to object to that argument. First, we have Marissa, whose albums are mainly composed of photos of herself with her soon-to-be hubby (such as: the two of them at dinner, the two of them at a party, her kissing him on the cheek while a look of disgust overtakes his face, etc.). Then we have Seth, whose albums primarily consist of every photo he’s ever taken of his dog (such as: his dog on the bed, his dog on the floor, his dog eating from its doggy dish, and his dog doing a million other completely unremarkable things). In all fairness, Seth has posted a few photos of Marissa. However, in each of those photos, Marissa is holding…..his dog. Doesn’t sound like a match made in heaven, does it?

So why in God’s name are these two tying the knot? Beats the shit out of me. Is this common practice? Willingly settling down with a person with whom there is no emotional compatibility? Where’s the glue that’s holding them together? What’s going to keep Marissa and Seth from falling apart decades from now? (Or what’s kept them from falling apart already?) If I had to shoot in the dark, I’d say that some nagging Jewish parents were involved with this engagement. I think I can actually hear Seth’s mother yelling, “SETH!!! Why haven’t you met a nice Jewish girl yet!???? What are you waiting for?!!!…YOUR FATHER AND I WANT TO SEE SOME FRIGGIN’ GRANDCHILDREN BEFORE WE DIE!!!”

If that’s the reason, then surely this marriage will fall apart the instant said grandparents kick off. And if that’s not the reason, perhaps Seth comes from boat-loads of family money, and Marissa is just a gold-digger. That’s a possibility too, I guess.

Whatever the reason, this engagement has left me moderately disturbed. Mostly because I doubt that Marissa and Seth’s situation is uncommon. Maybe this is why so many marriages end in divorce. Or maybe this choice to forfeit emotional compatibility is common amongst relationships that begin on the internet. And maybe that’s why dating websites have such high “success rates.” (I believe “success rate” = number of marriages.) What I’d like to see are some statistics on the divorce rates of couples that have met online. Now that would be interesting.

Call me naïve, but I think marriage needs to be based on something other than, well……nothing. But perhaps I’m just one of the lucky ones. I’ve been fortunate enough to have found, at one point in my life, a person who complemented me so well that I often thought of him as “the missing piece that I didn’t even know was missing.” After a few years, my missing piece and I parted ways, but that experience taught me something very important: not just the depths to which two people can love each other, and that it’s possible to love someone more than I love myself, but that, when it comes to dating, two people either fit together, or they don’t. And Marissa and Seth just don’t fit. That being said, if they actually go through with their proposed nuptials, I think instead of hearing “Mazel Tov,” and “Congratulations,” they should be hearing, “May God help you.” Because help is exactly what they are going to need.