Infatuation. It stimulates emotions that range wildly from “she’s impossibly beautiful” – ecstatic – to “She’d never look at me!” – depressive. When she walked into the party, my eyes became fixated on her slender lines, long hair, and aristocratic nose.
Having an opportunity to speak with her convinced me that she was perfect. I decided that I needed to get to know this beauty. She seemed to respond in kind, and the next half hour was spent in a sort of mellow state of enchantment. Then it slipped out that I was a grad student in Anthropology; “God,” she muttered. ” How are you going to support a family?” I smiled politely and asked about her area of study. She smiled at me, turned her back, and started to walk away: “I’m just here to have a good time.”
Infatuation. It comes on fast and departs like a riptide. I don’t think it’s any different for a man than for a woman, and we’re lucky if it leaves without us.