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Is it better to have loved and lost, than to have never loved at all? Wend your way through this article, reader, whilst I attempt to put my thoughts in order (I will do myself the honor of supposing that I have thoughts). Perhaps I shall make a remark or two worth hearing, even if I don’t reach a conclusion. Why do we love? I don’t mean the physio-chemical mechanism, the neural structures behind it all, but what are we trying to accomplish by it? It seems to me that we are looking for value in another person. The words, "This is the person I want to spend my life with", trite as they may seem, are actually an expression of what we seek in love: the qualities of that person, which we value, are so great that we wish to have those qualities (and that person who expresses them) near to us forever. Now "which we value" is an important part of this. It is perfectly possible for a person to express qualities that we do not value; as a consequence, we will not love that person. We usually do not even note those qualities, save perhaps with contempt or disgust. I do not demand that we should appreciate those qualities, or find in them the basis for love; merely to acknowledge that they are there. The true "man without qualities" is a rare bird indeed. Of course, there can be a range in this. I may not wish to spend my life with a person, but may wish to spend one evening a week or a month with him or her, drinking beer or going out to a rock concert. To use the same, "love", in the sentences, "I love apple pie", "I love partying with Mary", "I love screwing Mary", and "I love Mary like no man has loved a woman since time began"1, is not an error forced on us by a lack of proper terminology, but expressive of the different forms that love can take. An aside here, let me speak of physical love – sex. We all pretend to denigrate this, exclaiming, "Oh, it’s just a physical attraction", and nodding sagely at each other as we denounce how shallow it is to act this way. On the other hand, men and women both pay for escorts who at least look like they’d be good in the sack – not for ones who can plausibly imitate world-famous economists, or tender and caring step-parents, or charming and witty people with great personalities. This leads me to believe that, in most people’s minds, having a great sex life is perhaps more important than they’d like us to think. To pretend that the physical aspect of love – not only having hot monkey sex, but with a partner who others think is worth having hot monkey sex with – is unimportant may be a case of sour grapes. So, then, what when your true love ceases to show those qualities that you value? We are all familiar, whether or not through personal experience, with the indignant and discarded lover who exclaims, "I thought you loved me, not my breast implants/trust fund/Nobel prize/fill in the blank". Even worse, perhaps, is the jilter who tells the jiltee, "You’re good in the sack/kitchen/drawing room/office. but So-and-so is great". What then? This leads to the problem of unrequited love. That I find you my true soulmate is no guarantee that you will find me yours2. Of course, unrequited love can be overcome. The steps are:
Step 1 is almost trivial (although is probably futile to answer it "Brad Pitt" or "Christy Turlington"). Step 2 is a little harder, but a reasonable amount of research will provide an answer. Step 3 can be very hard indeed, and the usual demurral is, "But I want to be loved for who I am!" Of course, there is not necessarily a reason why you should be loved for who you are; aside from the tastes of your chosen target, you may not be a particularly loveable person at all3. People who say this are often soft of spirit, lounging around and demanding that someone – anyone – love them ("anyone" will do until someone better comes along, at which point the former lover will be dropped like a hot potato), despite the fact that they have changed all out of recognition over time. So, is it better to have loved and lost, than to have never loved at all? I still don’t know; you tell me. I maunder; you decide. 1Which is almost certainly not true, but we all like to hear it, don’t we?2Indeed, I would suggest that if you do find me yours, you’re in need of some kind of psychiatric treatment. 3Be sure to have plenty of Bactine, bandages, and splints handy if you take this tack face-to-face. A woman once hit me with a vodka bottle when I told her…but that’s another article. John "Akatsukami" Braue Sunday, May 05, 2002 |
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