L*VE: A Necessary Evil?

Erastes (lover) and eromenos (beloved) kissing, ca. 480 BC.

It has all happened before. Butterflies flutter in the pit of your stomach. Flushed cheeks. Your pupils dilated, begging every ray of light to burn the image of your beloved onto every corner of your mind. You're in love. Or was that infatuation you felt? All the same, more of the same.

You've seen people come together, held by a string of habit and morbid dependence. Someone you held as a paragon of independence is reduced to an accessory, a trinket to be worn on their partner's arm. That one friend who scoffed at the idea of romance is now writing poetry. Inseparable. Dependent. Attached. Insufferable.

What forces bring about these ungodly changes in one's demeanour?

Students of philosophy have spent years attempting to understand love in its various forms. One of my favourite philosophical texts on the subject is "The Symposium" by Plato, which introduces Plato's "Ladder of Love". However, most of the text was muddled with metaphors laced with Greek mythology and romanticisation of Eros, the Greek God of Love. This does a great disservice to the attempt at truly understanding any human emotion.

To truly understand man, one must detach oneself from anything that could possibly muddle their rationality. In true sense, then, one must attempt to renounce any form of romanticism as a stepping stone to explaining the human condition. This is what I intend to do with the following text. Albeit a brief account, I hope that it shall help illuminate the subject with some clarity.

The Meeting
Humans are visual animals. Whether or not we accept this uncomfortable truth is another matter, entirely. Like most things in life that we desire, it is a prerequisite for our romantic partners to be aesthetically pleasing. At first, it may seem to be an evolutionary remnant, faithfully passed down through the generations like a family secret that slowly grows into common knowledge. Symmetrical faces are preferred over asymmetrical ones, slimmer body types are preferred over bulky ones, so on and so forth.

Based on our affinity towards visual characteristics, our mate-seeking rituals have evolved accordingly. Nightclubs, dance bars and parties; rendezvous points for those seeking romantic company, remind one of 'lek', where the male dances intoxicated, fluffing his proverbial feathers to get the bird. All this would seem rather primitive, if only we weren't habituated to it through constant reinforcement.

This is where we fall into our first trap. When we look at a "beautiful" face, our brain receives a dose of dopamine. Dopamine, commonly referred to as a 'feel-good' neurotransmitter, acts like a drug, reinforcing the mesolimbic pathway; turning you into a junkie craving the sight of your beloved. Soon, you are hooked into a chain of events that turn out to be rather regrettable. The late night calls, the hollow promises, the transparent excuses; we've all been there.

The Prosthetic Limb
Soon enough, you're taken over by another monster, more formidable than the previous one. Attachment.

You have an insatiable desire to remain in close proximity of your faithful beloved, counting the stars and picking names for your future children over warm cups of tea. 'But no,' you might say, 'I truly do love them'. It might seem so, for when we stumbled upon the discovery of love, we were profoundly ignorant of the puppet masters pulling our strings.

Oxytocin and vasopressin are hormones responsible for attachment in females and males, respectively. Secreted mostly during sexual activity and physical contact, it forms the basis of the emotional attachment that we experience and associate with the romantic. This strengthens the dating ritual to a point where both partners turn into a parasite, a prosthetic limb that takes the place of what we think is missing. And so, it goes on. Until the inevitable.

The Excision
Months, years and decades fly by. Picking apart the enigma you once admired is not what it seemed all those years ago. The romance fades, or rather, you crave the dopamine surge that you've been denied by habituating yourself to your partner. At that point, you come across someone who shows an interest in you. Those kind eyes, they seem to understand you. That smile, they seem to empathise with you. The countless chemicals tickling your brain, you reach out for the forbidden fruit.

And then, it happens. The excision. Countless moments of affection swept away by a tide of mindless infatuation and thrill-seeking. The cycle continues, leaving one or both the involved individuals in a state of anguish and despair. The constant cycle of agitation and relief strengthens the ties with their new partner, creating what appears to be a stronger bond between them. The limb has been excised, to be replaced by a newer, shinier one. Until it grows old with habit and cracks under the colossal weight of time.

However, there are exceptions. Some people stay, fearing the harsh chill of loneliness. Some stay out of sincerity, fearing sin or society; or both. But they are all a speck in the kaleidoscope called mankind. And they all deserve the comfort of a warm embrace, a sincere kiss. And so, we hold on. Convincing ourselves that it means something more than the flick of a switch. A ripple in the mind.

NOTE
Kindly accept my sincerest apologies for delaying the article for more than what would be a reasonable amount of time. I have been otherwise occupied with several undertakings which I choose not to disclose.

I have always been rather dismissive of romantic love, considering it to be a hobby for humans who cannot bear the brunt of solitude. I, however, do not wish to undermine your genuine feelings of affection towards the love of your life.

My next article would feature my reflections on the nature of aggression from a rational perspective.