I take in his smooth cheeks, his rough chin and jaw, the developing wrinkles at the corners of his eyes. 'We fall in love with somebody who maybe seems like a bad match,' Tully says, 'and our friends run around saying 'What does he see in her?' What he sees in her is what's hidden from everyone else. He's fallen in love with something invisible.' 'Or possibly he's made a common mistake,' I say, gazing at Tully. 'He was needy. He fell for outward appearances. He projected onto this person whatever it was he'd always longed for in a relationship, whatever he hungered for in life. He fell in love with the idea of love.' 'That's a pretty cynical point of view,' Tully says.