Love

You’ve only to look through a smattering of the world’s literature to realise that love is a big deal to the human race. It seems as though every film, every novel, every song is infused with a love story to keep observers’ attention; it’s what we want to engage with. It seems fitting that such a complex species should be so obsessed with such a complex feeling. There’s no black and white to love – it can be a source of joy or pain, and often a mixture of the two – it affects anyone, anywhere, any time and it cannot be controlled. Previously straightforward decisions become clouded and overwhelming and strong opinions can be toppled in seconds. Love is not a force to be meddled with. It is so complicated, just finding words to define it is mind-blowing. It is a feeling, an emotion, an obsession, a compulsion, cruel, kind, beautifully simple and yet so hideously problematic. We are far closer to understanding time than we will ever be to understanding love.

Of course, it could just be an evolutionary compulsion adapted to give us the best chance of surviving to produce fertile offspring…

But that doesn’t sound nearly as romantic.