If you’re a writer or a reader, then you likely know of Gabriel Garcia Márquez’ masterpiece: Love in the Time of Cholera. When that book was published in the mid 80s, I was in my early teens, full of vulnerability and openness.
I knew nothing of cynicism or regret. I knew nothing of pain or worry. I knew nothing of hopelessness or fear. Simply put: I was a dreamer. A believer. I wrote poems and became enamored with the meaning of life. Why were we put here on this planet? At 13 and 14 and 15, these were the concepts with which I was consumed.
My writings and curiosities always led me to believe that the purpose of this all must be love. So Márquez’ words were about to bury themselves permanently in my soul. His book certainly solidified my passion for reading and it also solidified my desire to be a writer. Yet perhaps most importantly, his novel made me believe in love above all else.
From unrequited love to unlikely love, I believed in the stories … in the challenges … in the longing … in the patience … in the power. I simply fell in love with the concept of love.
Flash forward three decades: I am a single 49 year old woman with three children. I have known and experienced and cherished great love. From a 15-year relationship with my ex-husband to a decade-long relationship with my ex-boyfriend, I was intrigued, challenged, cared for, maddened, elated and much more during the majority of my adult years.
Only in the past two years have I found myself single. It took me (a lover who believes that we are here to love and be loved!) some time to adjust to being alone. Yet, recently, I came to cherish that solitude. I took advantage of the time to really get to know myself, my desires, my abilities, my being.
Months ago, I felt ready. I was open to putting myself out there to see what the universe had in store. The whole process felt light and easy, as I had no end goal in mind: I wasn’t looking for a husband. I wasn’t looking for someone who could give me children. I wasn’t looking for someone to support me financially. I was just looking to add some fun to my peaceful life.
From December until a few weeks ago, I dated a couple of guys. They knew I was dating other people and had no expectations of exclusivity. It was perfect … until the coronavirus hit. Certainly, as people’s health and lives are on the line, dating during the Coronavirus becomes the least of concerns. We all have hunkered down, staying away from bars and clubs and restaurants. Immediately, there has been no more traditional dating.
In dating during Coronavirus, there is still texting and talking. Connection shouldn’t just evaporate if it is real. This pandemic is actually a pretty good relationship test. Can these relationships exist without any physical contact? Is there enough there to keep the dialogue and the interest going?
Being a romantic, I wonder if these social distancing parameters will cause one of these men to realize his insatiable desire for me, combined with his undying patience. Maybe one will feel like Márquez’ protagonist who waited more than 50 years to be with his love:
“Today, when I saw you, I realized that what is between us is nothing more than an illusion.”
Surely, if any of my current relationships have any potential, they can survive several weeks of distance?
These are interesting times for everyone. Again, I understand that many people are only concerned with staying healthy. I do not underestimate or minimize that while I am considering the impact this virus has on love. It just happens to be a fascinating time to be in the dating world.
Márquez uses the concepts of health and sickness, of plagues and cholera, to demonstrate the amazing power of romantic connection. I, too, am looking at this current pandemic and am wondering what it will reveal in the face of love. The power lies within the universe, within the moments, within our thoughts … perhaps even within our imaginations.
Dating During Coronavirus
Love in the time of the coronavirus is an interesting concept. These hours, these days, these weeks … they will be telling. They will, I imagine, lead many of us single people in an altered direction as we determine what is important now and in many weeks from now. We will see what weight we place on our imaginations and on our dreams versus the weight we place on that which we can experience and have and hold and touch.
We will see if we have a modicum of the patience that Márquez’ characters had:
“Courage did not come from the need to survive, or from a brute indifference inherited from someone else, but from a driving need for love which no obstacle in this world or the next world will break.”