Running away from love

Tragic is facing love and not recognizing it, unconsciously suppressing reciprocity. All You Need Is Love, The Beatles sang. Not quite. When the reproductive organs do the “thinking” all one needs is lovers. Like alcohol or money, it is prone to addiction, beyond distracting, destructive, and eventually leads to sadness.

Soundtrack

Who said essays can't have soundtracks? Smack My Bitch Up [⇣], this is the Internet.

[David Byrne]
She'll take you back, don't make believe
You wanna think it through
I've loved before, I'll love again
I know that yours was true

[Anna Calvi]
Wake up slowly, there are blue skies
Cutting white lines in black matter
I see them shinin' through your drunken eyes
Carving silver in strange weather

[David Byrne]
She'll meet a man, we'll make a home
And travel to the deep
Of further lines with hidden dreams
The broken heart to keep

[David Byrne + Anna Calvi]
Wake up slowly, there are blue skies
Cutting white lines in black matter
I see them shinin' through your drunken eyes
Carving silver in strange weather

[Anna Calvi]
She'll take you back, don't make believe
You wanna think it through
I've loved before, I'll love again
I know that yours was true
You might also like
[David Byrne + Anna Calvi]
Wake up slowly, there are blue skies
Cutting white lines in black matter
I see them shinin' through your drunken eyes
They only want me in STRANGE WEATHER
In a small room, on a naked floor
With the blinded heart of black matter
I could hear you through the front door
Carving silver in STRANGE WEATHER

[Anna Calvi]
She'll take you back, don't make believe
You wanna think it through

[David Byrne]
I've loved before, I'll love again
I know that yours was true
        

Prelude

No matter how this text comes across, don't waste your energy hating me for I'm providing my own abundance of mental flagellation.

When I first set foot in Brussels last year, my great relocation, I told myself not to have a relationship for twelve months and speedrun through experiences I should've had in my twenties. Being a bachelor, having my own place, alone… you catch my drift. Meanwhile, I was still under the impression that a requirement for a good relationship is immediate infatuation, that certain kind of attraction that lingers throughout the day. Turns out I was wrong. I was under the impression that I was prone to certain physical traits. Turns out I was wrong. All in all regarding relationships I was under the impression that I was right. I was wrong. Everything is psychological. A layman would mistake me for a wise man by quoting Socrates: “He knows that he knows nothing.” Socrates, however, would quote his contemporary layman: “What an idiot.”

Around a month after arrival I met chocolate Leia*, a peculiar Star Wars fan, only it needed very little force to fall into her gravitational pull. There was no pretending. The laughter was organic. The conversations plenty. She guided me out of my comfort zone and I obliged, for a while. Leia's steadfastness combined with my inexperience caused significant friction. Certain feeling weren't reciprocal so we stopped talking. Didn't work. We stopped talking again. Didn't work. We were still orbiting each other. Eventually I was strong-armed into an ultimatum: relationship or indefinite silence. On one hand it was a discomforting push I could never quite shake. On the other hand it was understandable, why would anyone date someone who is not sure about them. Ideally I wanted to remain friends, quite confident something could grow organically. However, it was still an experiment for I had never experienced late onset chemistry before. Despite the inorganic approach, goodbye twelve-months plan. Considering she continuously wandered my mind, it'd be folly not to try.

Alas. Despite us feeling like we've been together for years, it did not work out. Our different running paces caused anxiety on either her or my side. Already entertaining the idea about buying a house somewhere not even two or three months into a relationship is a pro marathon runner level. Usain Bolt wouldn't be able to keep up either; having the potential does not mean possible if the legs aren't trained for it. To continue the metaphor, I have a talent for running. Fast. Unfortunately it's a condition I cannot seem to contain to bipedal movement. I've run from love about thrice that I can remember.

What follows is some of the instigators and this year's most important yet painful realisations. Blind of all the baggage one carries the mind plays tricks on itself. Tricks that are easily though ignorantly interpreted as a valid instinct, intuition. Wow. What a convoluted way of euphemizing forgetfulness, ignorance, stupidity, and plain selfishness. Time to owe up to it through my kind of therapy, writing.

– – – – –

* Pseudonym.

Smothered by affection

Not now, nor in the past didn't things work out because there were major compatibility problems—on the contrary—but in large part because of feeling irrationally uncomfortable. It's a hard to describe sensation of feeling weird with myself. An uneasiness from within. Claustrophobic is an exaggeration, yet it sufficiently triggers the flight response to become distant. What's curious is that I have absolutely no problem being affectionate and caring when the thought of a relationship doesn't enter the picture. Nevertheless, as soon as I feel someone becomes dependent on me, I skedaddle. A shame really, cowardly. Is it awkward that plants depend on water? Is it awkward that honeybees depend on flower pollen? Who the hell feels uncomfortable for depending on oxygen? Like a chemical bond or any natural process it is beautiful that two beings jive so well to the point they need each other. Together they evolve into a unity that couldn't otherwise exist. “The whole being greater than the sum of its parts.” What I should've learned by now is that not all forms of dependence are bad. Everything is connected therefore in some way dependent on something else. The repulsion likely originates from growing up with the wrong kind of dependence as an example; a kind of toxic taking someone for granted attitude causing that same someone to lose their agency. Something I wanted to avoid at all costs. If all of the above hits close to home, you might not know it's called the avoidant attachment style [⇣].

“The avoidant attachment style is the second most common out of the four types and involves a tendency to form insecure relationships out of a desire to remain independent.”

“[…] avoidants tend to push their partners away because intimacy is a trigger for them.”

“Avoidants may be quick to find others (particularly those with anxious attachment) needy, clingy, or "too much" because they've become so used to never expressing their own needs. So, when someone expresses their needs to them, it can seem […] suffocating.”

Squinting my eyes at these paragraphs above at 5 in the morning, Googling my way out of anxiety, I felt a relief. “Shit, that's me!” The ephemeral became tangible. After all these years I had something concrete to work on.

Regardless, ignorance is no get out of jail free card. The fact remains that I've hurt people by turning cold, which truly makes me despise myself—I goddamn hate that I made Leia cry; it's the most viscerally painful memory I have. Evocable at instant, with equal potency. Imagine her facing you in the couch, cross legged, head slumped, eyes welled up to express enough hurt to supply decades of drama. At one point her gaze turns to you, and with unseen tenderness she softly yet firmly punches your side. Not to hurt, but to make it all go away: “How could you do this? It doesn't make sense!”, she said crying. I didn't know, and started crying as well—the only punch I got that ever really hurt. Then, outside, our final moments, both still not registering what was happening. I was fully absorbing every detail about her. The more I did, the more I loved her, realising we weren't at a horizontal junction, but a vertical one. For I was jumping off a waterfall by leaving her behind—a mistake…

“Goodbye.”

As with the speed of a lightning strike her lips shrivelled, turned her head, tears rolling down her cheeks, visibly sending a shiver throughout her body. No lightning rod in the world was sufficient. It was as if every fibre in her contained a little beating heart. When reality finally hit, every little heart stopped beating. Seconds became minutes. Falling with my back towards the precipice I was still in reach to receive the full shock: “What just happened? What the hell did I do?” Slowly she walked away, turned around at the corner of the street, our eyes met one last time… gone. Leia was gone. I can cry on command by recalling this one memory. And one is enough. I'm sorry, Leia. So sorry to anyone I've hurt. Never do I want to inflict this agony upon someone again. Never. Otherwise point me towards the closest literal precipice; what good am I if I cannot love?

“Visit a psychologist!” Before last year that would've never crossed my mind since I assumed these avoidant feelings signify something isn't meant to be or it isn't the right time. Nonsense in hindsight. Sometimes it is meant to be and fleeing does make life less good for both in the long run. The converse being equally possible of course. Anyway, keep closest those select few people with whom being yourself is effortless. No masks, no holding back. Like sparrows in summer, naturally in tune. Whoever coined “keep your friends close and your enemies closer” can keep the change. The biggest enemy is yourself. So if there's one thing to take away from my mistakes, it is to never embrace your inner imbecile.

Not practising philosophy

Mastering a physical skill requires rigorous training. Not being an imbecile likewise. Lacking physical training quickly and noticeably presents itself through fat and decreased performance. Lacking mental training is more insidious since we easily justify our thoughts, or not think at all. Without mindfulness we drive on autopilot, the rational mind asleep at the wheel.

“Diogenes was acting on a crucial idea in Epicurus, that in order to live wisely it isn't enough just to read a philosophical argument once or twice, we need constant reminders of it, or we'll forget. When we're encouraged to go shopping by bright lights and inviting displays, we're quickly liable to lose sight of our true desires. So we have to counteract the influence of advertising by creating advertisements which say what we really do need, and that's why Diogenes put up his wall [on which the philosophy of Epicurus was inscribed].” [⇣]

Due to the excitement of a new life I unconsciously grew to neglect the philosophies within Marcus Aurelius' Meditations and Robin Hard's book on Diogenes. Philosophies that emphasize not being a slave to primeval emotions because these are reactionary, not in our control. What is in our control is the ability to scrutinize these emotions, to acknowledge them as animalistic, simple-minded. In turn the Cynic principles strengthened my resolve in minimalism. To negate desire beyond the necessary and to appreciate every possession to the fullest without being overly attached.

“Those who are in thrall to their stomach and sexual organs and sleep he called triple-slaves.” —Diogenes of Sinope (404–323 BC) [⇣]

“You have reason?—Yes, I do.—Then why not put it to use? For if this performs its function, what more do you desire?” —Marcus Aurelius (121–180) [⇣]

Once a slave in pursuit of money until Diogenes' Cynicism threw me a rope—which can be used to pull yourself up, or as he exclaims, hang yourself—I fell back into a similar kind of unexamined pursuit, chasing infatuation. Throughout the ruckus my pea brain even forgot reading Living With Limerence, a book concerning the pitfalls of infatuation. Limerence being “the state of being obsessively infatuated with someone, usually accompanied by delusions of or a desire for an intense romantic relationship with that person” [⇣]. For crying out loud, this was my review:

“After reading the first couple of pages: “Wow… So not everyone feels this way?” After completing the book I'm now looking at myself from a bird's-eye view, acknowledging a physical adult with the relational maturity of an adolescent. I got some work to do.

If I'd read this book in high school, my life would've turned out remarkably different. Therefore, Living with limerence is a must-read for those who are suckers for infatuation.”

Some notable quotes:

“[…] We are most vulnerable to limerence when we do not understand ourselves, do not understand our drives, and react unthinkingly to the presence of an limerent object – led by our emotional impulses and enslaved to subconscious urges.”

“[…] If you associate limerence with what love is, you will have a life characterised by a series of short-term infatuations. That’s fine, if that’s what you want, but if you are seeking a long-lasting bond of deep love, you need to accept that limerence will only be part of it during the early stages. And, as we’ve already covered in earlier chapters, it’s quite likely that you will succumb to limerence again if you are careless about managing the risks when you are in a long-term relationship.

“The goal, then, is not to stop being a limerent – I fundamentally don’t think that is possible – the goal is to integrate limerence into your life in a healthy way. To accept it as an aspect of yourself, but to develop the self-awareness and resilience needed to regulate it when it’s unwanted.”

“They are not that special. Nobody is. You’ve probably had moments of clarity when you’ve seen this, and had that weird dissociative experience of wondering why you are so gaga about someone who is objectively pretty ordinary.”

The rediscovery of these paragraphs was a sobering disappointment by acknowledging I've learnt nothing. I was lost, running in circles. In addition to a dog chasing his tail: “As a dog returns to his vomit, so a fool repeats his folly.” [⇣] Had I acknowledged these fickle emotions as meaningless limerence the relationship would've had a way higher success rate. Dumbass.

Eric: “I don't know. It seems like bad things are always happening to me, like I have bad luck or something.”
Red: “Son, you don't have bad luck. The reason that bad things happen to you is because you're a dumbass. 
        

Initial infatuation as a requirement

It seemed natural to assume that initial infatuation was our body's way of pointing out compatible mates. Hence a requirement for a relationship. Not so. About two months after parting from Leia I had a deep conversation with someone for whom I felt nothing special since day one. Not physically, not mentally. Yet after one deep talk there was an unexpected spark. Long story short, the whole thing turned out to be a dud, but then and there it dawned on me that hanging out with someone until infatuation grows organically is possible. My experiment worked, with the wrong person.

Not practising philosophy was one thing, having a warped idea about love was another. Case in point the outstanding prescience of the aforementioned book: “a life characterised by a series of short-term infatuations.” What a punch in the gut, a painful motivator to look for answers. Which led a colleague to share Alain de Botton's talk Why Romantics are Ruining Love. It upended my dogmatic confidence in initial infatuation. My foundation for relationships was built on quicksand.

“The way we love is very dependent on our societies, and nowadays we love romantically. […] Romanticism tells us that all of us have a soulmate out there, and it's our task to identify the soulmate. When we meet the soulmate we will feel a very special feeling, and a kind of instinctive attraction to this person and we will know they are our destiny. […]”

Although I instead believe in a set of “most compatible ones”, overly relying on infatuation as a compass has obviously caused avoidable hardships.

“[…] In fact I believe that Romanticism is the single greatest enemy we face for love. […] Now what is so wrong with Romanticism? Why the cynicism? Well let's start with a few points. One of the first things that's troublesome is that unlike what Romanticism tells us, we are not pure kind loving beings simply on the lookout for a soulmate. We are deeply dangerous, and most of us are on the edge of insanity. This is not an exception. It's just what it means to be human. All of us are only just holding it together. We are dangerous to be around. We have all sorts of impulses, feelings, desires, which make us great trouble to be around. The only people we can think of as normal are people we've just met. Once we've met them a little bit more we will soon realise that they are not normal.”

“[…] One of the first questions we should be asking ourselves in a more psychologically aware society, one of the first questions you should ask anyone at a dinner date is “How are you mad?” “I am mad like this, how are you mad?” That should be a very standard question we ask each other over dinner but it's seen as an insulting question, it isn't.”

So, how are you mad?

It won't come as a surprise that I have been mad about women. Which is not necessarily bad as long as the following two rules are adhered. One, communicate expectations. When you don't you're screwing someone, when you do you're having sex. Two, don't talk out of bed. Evaluating your worth by objectifying one for the appraisal of another is pathetic. That being said, experience tells me there is an equal amount of promiscuous men and women. Whether promiscuity is fulfilling is another thing, which leads us to non-monogamy.

Monogamy versus non-monogamy

Being on the fence about non-monogamy has influenced my capacity for commitment. Moreover, I dislike traditions, doing things because they're expected. Yuck. And it's not only me, for non-traditional relationship are on the rise in Belgium [⇣]. Why be on the fence then? Some pros and cons.

☑ The utilitarian argument. The love of many increases the total amount of happiness in the world. Excluding debauchery, how does loving multiple people deteriorate society?

“Love of one is a piece of barbarism: for it is practised at the expense of all others. Love of God likewise.” —Friedrich Nietzsche, Beyond Good and Evil

Jealousy? Sure, except I think that's because we're scared of losing someone, a remnant of a monogamous environment where others are competitors in a zero-sum game [⇣]: for someone to win, another must lose. Whereas within polyamory others are allies, a non-zero-sum game: for someone to win, another needn't lose.

☑ The imperfection argument. Finding partner Ω (omega) with characteristics {a, b, c, d, e} is unlikely. Why not partner up with person X for reasons {a, b, c} and person Y for reasons {c, d, e}? E.g., imagine loving someone but their antipathy for math leaves a void. Then one unsuspecting day you profoundly hit it off with another algebra aficionado. Instead of subtracting, add. Two partners. Feels a bit strange, no? Why should it. There are so many holistically beautiful people out there who deserve to be loved, only they aren't because we imagine a nuclear family as a law of nature. I do admit it is easier said than done. It ignores all the difficulties such as dividing attention or multiplying and raising the products.

“People were created to be loved. Things were created to be used. The reason why the world is in chaos is because things are being loved and people are being used.” —Unknown [⇣]

☑ The sex is just sex argument. Marcus Aurelius tempered his urges by mindfully describing sexual intercourse as “the friction of a piece of gut and, following a sort of convulsion, the expulsion of some mucus.” It's funny because it's true. Let's compound it with Alain de Botton's observation that “The reason why suddenly adultery is a disaster is because the romantics have made sex into a proof, the ultimate proof of love.” Many relationships die because of adultery. Not because of the friction of a piece of gut, but because of the breach of trust. I think if we started seeing sex for what it is, clearly communicate, indulge when it disproportionally distracts us to regain focus, accept that expulsion of some mucus does not equate extinction of love, then break up rates would decline. It's just sex folks, let's not take ourselves too seriously, we've been doing it since we were fish. Blub. 🫧

☒︎ The consumerist counterargument: when one partner isn't enough, how many are? What tempers our gluttonous appetite? “A time constraint.” Maybe. Though, what then prevents us from acting the same way as in serial-monogamy, swapping one partner for another when we find someone “better”. Does non-monogamy teach us that “better” is not, but merely newer? Why would an untrained mind's incapacity to deal with novel shiny things act differently under non-monogamy versus monogamy?

Either way, our Western society would sorely benefit from placing more emphasis on being happy with what we've got. A middle ground might be to not actively seek for multiple partners, instead, when haphazardly bumping into a second “soulmate” I think it'd be a shame to destroy instead of nurture. As long as there's clear communication about the feasibility of expectations. Moreover, realistically, considering how extremely rare it is to encounter someone you connect with on a profound existential level, should we let choice paralysis be a problem?

☒︎ The Hedonist counterargument. Perhaps non-monogamy tends toward being “too much of a good thing” [⇣]. While reading up on the Madonna-whore complex I stumbled upon the movie Le Bonheur (1965)—my review:

“Le Bonheur brilliantly exposes an imaginary contrast between the ultimate Stoic and the ultimate Hedonist—because death is not in his control the Stoic does not suffer, because he revels in polyamory the Hedonist does not suffer. In theory the former should represent virtue, the latter vice, but in reality the entire thing felt ugly because a natural life follows a sine wave, the distinction of happiness necessitates sadness. Similar to Trainspotting's “Who needs reasons when you've got heroin?”, the protagonist is escaping reality on a chemical as well.”

Am I escaping responsibility? Is having multiple partners the easy way out of the hard work that is relationshipcraft? Is it akin to being spoiled? “Ah I can't have this with her, I'll just have it with someone else then.” In Le Bonheur, the protagonist being happy all the time struck me as unnatural, his smirk to boot. Even though he was eventually communicating honestly, it felt dishonest. What made it so poignant is that the protagonist used my exact same arguments:

François: “But I met her first. I married her... and I love her. She gave me joy. And now I meet you. You please me too, I love you too. I have enough joy for both of you. Happiness works by addition.”

Emilie: “You may like having two wives.”

François: “Yes, maybe. But I didn't look for it.”

Is it really haphazard if you meet someone, feel something, but then consciously decide to pursue it beyond what was otherwise going to be a short-term infatuation? Hardly. The film associated with it a certain stench. However, I'm not throwing the baby out with the bathwater. Provided everyone gets along, what if they all lived under one roof instead? The answers remain elusive.

Sexual distraction

Years ago at a philosophy cafe, a man nearing his sixties with a noteworthy career said: “One regret I have is that I didn't take more advantage of my younger body.” He was referring to sex. That comment felt all too familiar and has stayed with me ever since. In my late twenties I mostly sat isolated behind my computer, not taking full advantage of my youth. So as soon as I popped that bubble I applied his advice. Now here we are. His advice was helpful insofar as satisfying primeval urges, about everything else I was none the wiser.

After that dud with a quasi-succubus I had a hunch that I wasn't as libertine as I thought. Seeking answers led me to fill out a BDSM questionnaire [⇣]. My highest score was 77% vanilla, the lowest 0% masochist, which corroborated my suspicion that I more want to be libertine than I actually am. In other words, while sex can be incredibly thrilling and fun with the right person, it's just a distraction for me whereas it's a genuine way of life for others. Dr L was on point, when it comes to relationships I did not know who I was nor what I wanted. Do I want to pursue flings indefinitely? No. Do I want to raise a family with someone? Yes, unless all hope is lost towards climate change. There you have it. That's the answer. Take responsibility for who you really are.

To be honest, it's not far-fetched to reason that the majority of people who think they are non-monogamous do so out of short-term lust. We are evermore inundated with sexual imagery. It's all around us, constantly. Advertisements, television, social media, porn. When horny all the time it's easy to convince oneself that being a libertine is who you are. Right until orgasm. Post-nut clarity, or for the academically inclined, post-coital tristesse [⇣] reveals that the chase is not better than the catch whereafter the mind instantly flips attraction to books again, heavily. Excluding affection with a partner or someone on your wavelength. “It's not worth it then?” No, it is. Not because of the deed itself, but because it ideally leads to the insight that meaningless sex is not all it's cracked up to be. “Friction of a piece of gut.” Remember?

“Now I have often seen beggars who enjoy good health because of their privations, and rich people who are ill because of the incontinence of their accursed stomach and sexual organs. For in so far as you indulge these passions, you enjoy the titillations of pleasure for a short while, but these then occasion great and grievous pains. And then you will gain no benefit from your house or its columns with their fine capitals, but will be stretched out on your gold and silver couches suffering torture, and rightly so. Nor will you be able to summon up enough strength to swallow down the remains of your delicacies with their seasonings, you who are bad and friends to the bad. But if you have any sense, hearken one and all to the wise Socrates and to me, from the time of your youth onwards, and either learn self-control or hang yourselves.” —Diogenes the Cynic: Sayings and Anecdotes, with Other Popular Moralists

“The man who masters pleasure is not the one who abstains from it, but the one who enjoys it without allowing himself to be carried away by it; in just the same way as the master of a horse or ship is not the one who has nothing to do with it, but the one who guides it where he wants.” —Aristippos of Cyrene (435–356 BC); Diogenes the Cynic: Sayings and Anecdotes, with Other Popular Moralists

It continues to fascinate how most wisdom consistently traces back to what philosophers said over 2000 years ago, across continents, cultures, or developed in parallel. Yet, the wisdom occasionally sounds trite, right? Unwarranted, because to this day we still haven't made it our own, at all. We still falter. We are still equally enslaved to our impulses as we have been for millennia. Is there any hope left? As much as I love powerful aphorisms that can instantly change the course of life by upending one's perspective, it remains a battle of a few against many. I often wish it were possible to simply push a button to pause libido at will. Science has superseded philosophy in many a subject, perhaps this case should be no different. Especially considering that in the year 1, philosophers stood head-to-head against 300 million people, whereas today they're head-to-head against 8 billion of them fuckers [⇣]—pun very much intended.

Henceforth he sayeth to himself, intend thy puns, not thy penis.

—Angelino Desmet; 28 July 2023.

Ψ

Sources

1. The Prodigy: Smack My Bitch Up.
2. • Sarah Regan: Here's What Having An Avoidant Attachment Style Really Means + How To Work Through It.
   • Dr. Judy Ho: Dismissive Avoidant Attachment Style.
   • Mark Manson: Attachment Styles and How They Affect Your Relationships.
   • Wikipedia: Attachment theory.
3. Corentin Penloup: Baton roue.
4. Alain de Botton: Epicurus on Happiness - Philosophy: A Guide to Happiness.
5. Robin Hard: Diogenes the Cynic: Sayings and Anecdotes, with Other Popular Moralists.
6. Robin Hard: Marcus Aurelius; Meditations: With Selected Correspondence.
7. Dictionary.com: limerence.
8. Wiktionary.com: as a dog returns to his vomit, so a fool repeats his folly.
9. • That '70s Show: S1.E9, Thanksgiving.
   • TV Show Transcripts: s01e09 - Thanksgiving Transcript.
10. • Alain de Botton: Why Romantics are Ruining Love | Google Zeitgeist.
    • oliSUNvia: our conception of love is messed up.
11. • Thomas Moller-Nielsen, The Brussels Times: 'It's a liberation': Belgians increasingly open to polyamorous relationships.
    • Orlando Whitehead, The Brussels Times: Belgium in Brief: Polyamory, the more the merrier?
12. Wikipedia: Zero-sum game.
13. Joshua Becker: Love People, Not Things.
14. Flinder University: Flinders scientist discovers origins of sex.
15. Wiktionary: too much of a good thing.
16. Agnès Varda: Le Bonheur (1965).
17. bdsmtest.org: Let's test the kink out of you!
18. • Wiktionary: post-nut clarity.
    • Wikipedia: Post-coital tristesse.
19. • Wikipedia: Historical population, before 1950.
    • Wikipedia: Demographics of the world.
20. Reddit: Misquoted “intend your puns” meme.

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