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One might say that Mrs. C and I fell in love. From the moment she walked into my office, it seemed as though she and I had been fated to meet, and that knowing each other was going to affect us profoundly. Our positive feelings for one another did not seem to be tempered by the mundane disappointments, fears, frustrations and miscommunications that pervade most relationships. Our relationship seemed free of earthly imperfections.
Even the idea that there would ever be a change from these blissful, halcyon days was far removed from our consciousness. We acted and felt with each other as though this perfect state of affairs would continue indefinitely. While all the rest of the world seemed to be floundering in a sea of discontent and disharmony, together we were safe, warm and calm.
Reason would have told me otherwise. Mrs. C had been referred to me as a terminally ill cancer patient. She had a cancer which medical science has no successful method of treating, and her prognosis gave her only one year to live. (Yet, she seemed to be the picture of health; it was not difficult for me to put out of my mind that our time together would, most likely, be extremely limited.)
Even beyond that, of course I knew that the state of being in love is a psychotic process. No relationship remains free for long of conflictual feelings. Hate and aggression, as well as love, are essential components of reality. In real-life relationships, the feeling of “being in love” is usually all too quickly replaced by a more realistic mutual understanding in which character flaws and limitations are able to be observed and tolerated. In analysis, it is, of