It can occur as silently and gradually as a seed opening beneath the earth.
On rare occasions, it can enter our lives like a crack of lightning. In its unadulterated form it transcends the sphere of feelings that, in themselves, are fleeting. Should you experience it something in you will stir; a gentle indicator letting you know, “Hey! This is it.” It eludes those who shamelessly pursue it and is rewarded to the lonely. It is a covenant so profound it need not be acknowledged before any court or god. Love is a presence found in each man and woman lying in wait for its moment to awaken.
The sum of two, though, must begin with one, and in Ayn Rand’s 1943 novel “The Fountainhead,” she imparts to her readers an interesting idea. She writes: “To say ‘I love you’ one must first be able to say the ‘I.’” There are those whose greatest fear is standing on their own. If only they could be convinced that in the quiet of our solitude we learn things about ourselves. Do you know the content of your character? Do you know what you stand for and why? Do you sit comfortably in your own skin? The answers to these questions form the foundation of the “I.” If they can be answered in the affirmative, the possibility for many things arise — namely love. There is no way to know if you will be compatible with another person if at first you do not know yourself.
From the outside looking in, I have noticed how most of my peers manage affairs of the heart. This involves pointless scheming as they jump from bed to bed, usually while intoxicated; failing to realize that when they return home that deep-rooted loneliness they were trying to satisfy is right where they left it. Both sexes find humor in this; however, I find it does not make much sense. Love cannot begin with a drunken prelude.
For those who find a relationship through the lens of sobriety, my hat’s off to you, but the real challenge is to sustain it. Terrence Malick’s 2012 film, “To the Wonder,” leaves a message with its viewers stating, “Emotions, they come and go like clouds. Love is not only a feeling.” It also is not infatuation. A level of urgency does seem to start things off for the majority of budding romances, and it truly is a feeling unlike any other; although, when the excitement subsides, what is left over is what counts. It should be unspoken understandings, gentle glances, patience and honesty. It should be contentment. Arguments happen, yet they should be handled with the care and attention they deserve leaving in their wake nothing but resolution.
What is more common to see is the litter of complaint left over from either party. As the weeks and months progress, the exchange of harsh words seem to become a habit. White lies start and soon spread throughout the relationship like great, metastatic masses. The connection inevitably ends at some point, and the concluding note will be the sad fact that the two people will be negatively changed, perhaps even broken— though as Hemingway put it, “Some will be strong in the broken places.” We all have that chance. Succeeding in it requires going back to square one and sorting through ourselves to see what we did wrong. It is easy to point the finger at someone else, but it is terribly hard to recognize that generally we should be pointing back at ourselves.
At times we are too needy, too arrogant, too nice or too vain— whatever the case, self- evaluation goes a long way.
If your attempt at love has failed, I hate to break it to you but it probably was not genuine. Love is not that which fades or fails. It is Shakespeare’s “ever-fixed mark” that only the fateful common denominator of life can put to an end.
Danielle Alvarez,
Junior Political Science Major.
