On Love

July 1, 1998
by C. S. Wyatt

Being upset and completely consumed by the topic of love, I have decided to embark upon a stream-of-conscious essay. It will not help, but it at least results in something more than me keeping a seat in front of the television warm.

I first wish to complain about the lack of variety of terms in Modern English for the broad range of emotional attachments we refer to as “love.”

We love a restaurant, a pet, the weather, a friend’s new suit, a song, an old friend, our siblings, our parents, a spouse, a mistress… we “love” everything — and therefore it is difficult to understand what we love in contrast to what we just really like a great deal.

Maybe we should adopt various codes. Simple “love” is no more than extreme “like.” If one underlines love then it is a bit stronger. We would progress from underlining to bold, italic, uppercase, bold uppercase, bold uppercase underlined, and further variations until we were always certain of the degree.

Another option might be the use of scripts. For example, love¹ would be a low-level love, while a love¹⁰ might indicate love of the most passionate nature. As you can see, I have not settled upon a final plan for expressing love.

One good thing about the various meanings of “love” in English is that one can tell the truth knowing that the intended audience might misunderstand. Call it misleading, but the phrase “Of course I love you” has been used by more lovers than the explanation “It was just an old friend.”

Watching far too much educational television, much thanks to the explosion of channels dedicated to quality programming, I have now learned more about love than I thought humans would ever grasp. We know what makes a face attractive (symmetry). We know about olfactory senses and pheromones. We know about “sperm competition” and other curious biological facts. Still, does any of this explain the essence of love?

According to various studies, humans have anywhere from a 1-in-50 to 1-in-100 chance of being physically attracted to another person, taking sexual preference into account. There is a 1-in-100 to 1-in-1000 probability of emotional attraction. Curiously, humans adapt to the availability of targets for affection. This explains why two people stuck on an island might experience something close to “love…” at least while on the island! This is why one person infatuated with another tries to limit the number of competitors around the target. Ideally, dinner for two results in more romance than dinner with twenty friends.

Then, we have the real problem. The odds are nearly miniscule that a couple will meet and be physically and emotionally attracted to each other beyond an initial “infatuation” phase of anywhere from a few months to a few years. Some scientists have even documented the existence of the “Seven Year Itch” in relationships due to a leveling of hormonal activity. It seems love dies over time if things just aren’t perfect.

So, if we know that love is truly a physiological phenomenon, with measurable affects upon the human body, then why is it so difficult to find two people equally in love with each other? Depending upon the pace of science, will it someday be possible to use DNA testing to locate a truly “perfect” life partner? And is this what we want?

I cannot bear the thought of a dating service screening individuals to this level. “Excuse me, we need a tissue sample for DNA screening, an IQ test, and a personality profile.” Yes, I know such services already exist, but are they really any more successful? I remain a skeptic; science selecting my mate is a terrible thought. We, as humans, need the success, failure, and especially the “mini-successes” experienced in the mating ritual.

I have been pondering these scientific facts from the perspective of a writer. What would happen without unrequited love and tragic sacrifice? Our artistic heritage would be ruined, I am certain. Without broken hearts, elicit affairs, brief passionate flings… what would inspire novels, poems, songs, paintings, and other forms of expression? Broken hearts are the fuels of artistic expressions.

Thankfully, I have not lacked fuel in my life. Unfortunately, fuels are dangerous — they tend to explode under pressure or heat and cause severe damage. In some cases, the fuel explodes into a single night (or nights — you tend to lose track of time) of passion. These are great moments for an artist because you savor the moment. In fact, the person with whom you enjoyed the flames of passion is secondary to the passion itself. We need our one-night stands. These give us great works of art.

Unfortunately, the story of Romeo and Juliet is one of a short, passionate affair. If these two kids had married, seven years later they would each be fooling around, trying to find that same passion. Herein lies a problem with short, passionate moments: they are addictive, worse than drugs or alcohol. Once we experience passion, we expect to keep finding it.

When one does find his or her ideal, the odds are that the ideal wants nothing to do with that curious lovesick creature. To someone not in love nothing is more annoying than someone in love with him or her. Love makes people act like lower forms of animal life. Though I have not seen any information to back this claim, I believe love reduces the average human’s IQ by at least 30 points, possibly more.

Along with the loss of intellect, physical characteristics often change. Men and women tend to “display” when they are in love. For a man, this means using cologne, combing his hair, and trying to utilize his strength whenever possible. Since power is also considered attractive — and surveys do show this to be the case, so women have no right to complain — men will display signs of success or special skills. As a writer, I have frequently relied upon my skills… though they aren’t as impressive as they might have been in the seventeenth or eighteenth centuries when writers were considered really cool.

Women tend to wear less clothing, as Italian and British researches have observed, ask for assistance more frequently, and tend to adopt unusual mannerisms, such as playing with their hair, batting their eyes, and other flirtations.

If someone is not interested, than the pursuer can look fairly ridiculous. But nothing is more ridiculous than a couple in which both parties are in love. Now that looks silly. Thankfully, as mentioned previously, most love is short-term. This means we only have to observe a couple acting silly for a few months… then they get bored with each other and it is much easier to enjoy their company. Of course, they are no longer fun to watch.

With half of all marriages ending in divorce and only one-third of married people surveyed stating they would marry the same person again, artists have sufficient fuel for a number of works. The explosion at the end of a relationship is usually more exciting than the initial flame. Yes, there are amicable splits, but these people were never passionate. What is truly exciting is the end of a once-passionate romance.

Back to Romeo and Juliet, what can be more exciting than a double suicide? The answer in literature is simple: the murder of a spouse or former lover. Now that’s literature. Behind romance novels are the short, passionate flings, but murder mysteries need explosive ends to longer relationships. Love is key to the two most popular forms for literature.

I should be thankful for love, as a writer, and I am. Still, as a normal human (which writers aren’t, but that is another topic), I despise love. I am in love with one who is not in love with me. Obviously this is the stuff of tragic sacrifice and other literary devices, but that makes it no more tolerable. I know that I behave like a Neanderthal in her presence. Since strength is not something upon which I can rely, I have to impress her with my creative skills. While not a visible activity, trust me — it is even more ridiculous to try to impress someone with art. “Oh yeah, check out this heavy poem I had to lift.”

I believe we do have the unfortunate tendency to love someone who does not love us. I have been trying to calculate the odds of a long-term, passionate, perfect romance and find my math skills lacking. If only a third of married couples would even remarry, then there is clearly a deficit of matched people. What I do know is that loving someone is both a great sensation and a terrible curse.

When you love someone but they lack similar feelings, there is no firewall, no protection from the flames of passion. You are eventually consumed by your unrealized passion. I view this is a form of spontaneous combustion, another phenomenon I have seen discussed on educational television. Sitting there in your lounge chair, watching a mindless sitcom, the passion suddenly consumes your heart. It is not a pretty sight. Men try to put this fire out with yet another combustible fuel. Yes, men turn to cheap beer or another alcohol. Women turn to the telephone and share their feelings… spreading the fire.

As a writer, I turn to words, hoping they will dull the fire. I just love¹ to write at times like this.

Mail comments and suggestions to: cswyatt@tameri.com

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