What Is This Thing Called Love?

AFTER I first met my lover more than 30 years ago, strange things happened. Familiar sights and sounds, such as walking in the rain or certain music we’d danced to on our first date, suddenly - and inexplicably - got me all choked up; my energy became boundless; time seemed to speed up to the point where one day blurred into the next. “It’s that old black magic,” a worldlier friend explained, “You’re in love.”

When we stopped going out after a few months I went into a deep depression. No energy, no spirit, no desire to do anything but mope around the house. But a thanks to a contrived reunion meeting 30 years later; when we started ‘seeing’ each other again my feelings soared. I’ve never questioned what it was that caused all those divergent emotions or why the affinity has persisted ever since. Poets write about love, but no one has ever really explained what it is. That is, until maybe now…

In recent years, researchers at several institutions have been taking a close look at the pathology of love. Their findings reveal that what most of us regard as a mysterious, ethereal force has certain definable psychological and physiological components. By understanding these components, we can form better love relationships and, equally important, recover faster from those that fail.

Falling in love resembles what social scientists call ‘imprinting’. That is to say, there already exist within each of us certain standards that reflect our family life, background and, in some cases, ethnic or racial heritage. Thus, when you encounter a particular type of perceptual stimulus - someone who fits these preconceived notions of what you need in a wife or husband - there’s a good chance you’ll fall in love.

 When I first picked my future lover out of scores of people on a crowded campus, for example, it was far from a random selection. According to the love scientists, I was “in a condition of readiness” - biologically and psychologically primed - to look for a romantic attachment. None of the other shapely lasses that day had enough of the “configurations and dimensions” that had been programmed into me.

 Falling in love is the experience of establishing a ‘pair-bond’. Although getting involved was furthest from any conscious mind, I was almost overpoweringly attracted to my future lover; and unlike simple love or casual sex strong pair-bonding exhibits an ‘all-or-nothing’ state.

 Why then do so many alliances that start out “strong pair-bonded” either dwindle to zero or, in the case of marriages, wind up in divorce courts? One explanation is that we don’t fall in love with a person per se, but with an idealized, subjective image that often diverges from the impression the loved one makes on other people. Hence the expression “Love is blind.” Under the pressure of inevitable disillusionment, a pair- bond that results from blind love is bound to weaken, generate disputes, and turn into hate or even violence.

Many long-lasting love matches lead to the conclusion that the best chance for a successful relationship is through complementary pair-bonding. It’s irrelevant whether the partners are replicas or polar opposites in temperament, interests, achievements or whatever, what counts is that they fulfill each other’s projected image.

Romantic love usually stays at its highest level for two or three years. But even when the peak of passion is past a more tranquil form of pair-bonding can keep the relationship alive. What really counts over the years is the ability to adjust your imagery or expectations as conditions change. A couple who, as they grow older, fulfill each other’s long-term fantasies and expectancies continue to be in love; otherwise, they grow apart.

This may be academic in light of current biochemical research. Scientists are studying the amounts of an amphetamine-like chemical, called phenylethylarnine, in the urine of people who habitually - and catastrophically - fall in love. Scientists postulate that a ‘loving brain’ pours out phenylethylamine in amounts greater than normally
found. This would account for the giddiness, appetite loss, euphoria and ability to go without sleep - the “high” exhibited by amphetamine users - seen in so many lovers.

Perhaps the role of chemistry is more evident among people who’ve been rejected by their love object. Almost all of us have either experienced or known someone in this condition: depressed, lethargic, inconsolable, often weepy and, sometimes compensating for the loss by overeating. In a real sense, these people are lovesick; their symptoms bear a striking resemblance to many of the emotions displayed by someone coming off amphetamines.

Is there a chemical basis for love-sickness? - Quite possibly. Many subject patients who have been studied arrive in a severely “down” mental state and reveal love-affair problems, are suspected to have inherited or acquired an unstable control mechanism which causes their brain levels of some amphetamine-like substance, perhaps phenylethylamine to fluctuate wildly. A number of their patients, for example, indulge in chocolate while they’re in this mood. As it turns out chocolate is loaded with phenylethylamine. Although the doctors caution against premature inferences, perhaps eating chocolate is an unconscious attempt to replace a chemical no longer manufactured in adequate quantities by the brain.

Despite all the current research into love’s psychological and biochemical factors, the true nature of the experience remains only little understood. Ultimately romantic love must be defined as a passionate spiritual-emotional-sexual attachment that reflects a high regard for the value of each other’s person. And while sometimes this can happen because the individuals were “made for each other,” there’s no reason why two people who were not necessarily “imprinted” for one another can’t achieve a long, successful love affair simply by working at it.

Not long ago, I attended a 50^th wedding anniversary and asked the couple what was it that they first saw in each other? There was a moment of silence. Finally, the husband looked up and said, “Nothing. The whole thing was arranged by a marriage broker. He decided we were made for each other—and he was right.”

Adapted from a piece from STANLEY ENGLEBARDT by ~ SB