My Belovéd

I have often heard it said, from a varied assortment of sources, that in a relationship there always exists a lover and a belovéd. This duality, so the party line goes, is omnipresent and eternal. Recent events and musings of a personal nature have made me examine this assertion again, and I have begun to wonder whether it is as true as so many think it is.

Another way to approach this concept is to see it in terms of the pursuer and the pursued. There is one who takes a step forward - toward the belovéd - and another who takes a step back - but (and this is key to the survival of this dichotomy) not away from the lover. It is a dance. A tango. The belovéd, predominantly a male figure throughout history but not so today, leads with his left foot, stepping vigorously forward, toward the object of his desires, who, generally a female counterpoint (but again not so today), takes a matching step back with the right foot.

It is no accident that dancing involves two people facing each other, facing each other off. He looms; she rises to meet. He advances; she slips furtively to the side, and backwards. But she is not running from him. No. Remember: she is facing him. Enticing him. Luring him. Calling him to follow her. They keep stepping, moving, circling. If she were truly fleeing, her back would be turned and she would be wearing footwear more suitable for sprinting than for the foxtrot.