As soon as you hear the word another springs to mind, a word closely attached to it, a word that induces the inexplicable fluttery feeling in the pit of your stomach, a word that consists only of four short letters, a simple sound we produce with our mouths that somehow holds an infinite depth of meaning and power. Love.
What a funny thought. Have you ever thought about it, truly took some time to think about emotions? Why do we feel them? Why do humans allow themselves to be controlled wholly by love, or hate? Why do we allow ourselves to become attached to people and things? Why is the compulsive need to be wanted, loved and accepted embedded in our nature?
The only reason that my brain can conjure up is that without emotions, life would be a bore. A safe bore, however.
No heartbreak, no infatuation so powerful it leads you to blindly commit dangerous acts of love or declaration. No embarrassment, no excitement, no ambition for something more. Only survival. And when you think, isn’t that why we’re alive? For the sole purpose of surviving?
I guess I’d call myself a realist. But my view on things that forces me to see things realistically, scientifically, doesn’t stop me from craving love. I can’t help it, when I see things like this, this odd, longing, lingering, desperate desire hits me straight in the gut. Things like this make me think perhaps there is something we haven’t discovered about ourselves yet. It makes me think perhaps emotions do have a purpose beyond making life interesting. The need to be wanted is so strong sometimes that it makes me think “love” could be something deeper, something more dangerous and compelling than anyone intended.