Love in the Age of World Domination

Compromise

I have gotten so used to being alone. Used to being just Me. As I want, when I want. I am happy in my own private world, with my warm life with the fuzzy edges, and the writing, and the tight circle of friends.

Interestingly, how I like to sleep is a good parallel to how I like to live. I like taking over a big bed all for myself. I want the duvet and the general space of the room all to myself too. And I sleep with the door closed to all other rooms, things, and people. Secure within my four light-blue painted walls. Part of it is that other people - even people close to me - even those in a relationship with me - feel threatening. Especially at night.

As soon as I find someone I like, I go into a knot of insecurity and anxious. Not insecurity about the other person. Insecurity about me, my ability to be a good 'other'. To live up to expectations, to love selflessly, to compromise. Because deep down there's a fear that I don't care enough to compromise. There's nothing I  hate more than compromise. There's just too much of Me now  - it wont fit in any space  with someone else.  Compromise feels like I am giving up on Her.

Because its taken me a long time to find Her. 

Almost all my life I was scared of being alone. So scared that it made me find certain types of people (usually unsuitable) and certain types of situations (usually inappropriate), and hang on to them like my life depended on it.  At some level my life did depend on it. Thats how I experienced it. At a gut level. Visceral.  They say that all painful behaviors, all such coping mechanisms, eventually fail. The solution becomes the problem. And it did.  My beautiful house of cards came crashing down.

And so I had to learn, go through the rubble, and put it back together, piece by piece, by myself. Thing is, once you've faced the worst of it, its all up from there. You find being you is not so bad. Then you get real good at it. Then you become supergirl. 

So, ironically after being terrified of alone for 29 years, I’ve faced it, and now in many ways its easier than 'together'.  'Together' is risky. There's a potential for failure. It’s much easier being me and the internet and the crazy dates. How did I get here? I’m afraid of the one thing I have always wanted more than anything else in life. It makes me sad.     

But I do know that I believe in love, and eternal companionship, and all those wholesome things. After all I have a blog with the word Love in the title. There's nothing quite like the love. Reckless hearts, the timing sucks, the time is right and the guy is wrong. But occasionally you get it right. The stars line up. And you find that affection is less dangerous when you're not afraid to feel.

In the end life together is messy. It will probably run the gamut from who steals the duvet to who's turn it is to be on top. To in-laws, and exes, and embarrassment and guilt, to fights about fighting and making up over never again. Its fixing the light bulb, to putting up the drapes. Its dustbuster flipflops and the soundtrack to Juno.

And somewhere in all of that, we'll find each other. And we'll get there. Wherever that is.

Love in the Age of Dustbusting Flipflops

Hey honey I am getting you these for your housework.
Um, thanks - but you could just help me with the housework instead?

The Messy Business of Life

This has got to be the longest time between posts on this blog. I am sure the irony is not lost on anyone that the last post was titled 'a slacker's guide'. I have now officially broken my own record for ultimate slacker-ness - and this time its in something I love to do. Writing. Thats like me slacking on sleeping or eating cookies.

Its been a hell of a two months.

I just returned to Washington after a month away for work to Indonesia and Malaysia, and then Sri Lanka for vacation. Although I was super-stressed before going, the work part of the trip turned out to be awesome, in particular the Big UN climate conference down in Bali - 10,000 people, zillions of side events, crazy media circus, amazing resorts and beaches. The actual negotiations in the plenary were fascinating, although, not being used to UN processes, found them a tad strange, and not convinced its the way to solve complex problems. I have never been a fan of far-removed top down approaches to problem solving.. although I can see why in the case of climate change this may be the only way to go.

As for Lanka, it was exactly as it is every year. Too hot, too party-crazed, and too many vehicles on the sum total of 4 roads that is Colombo. Not the most zen place for a relaxed vacation but its got its usual charms: midnight mass where an incoherent non-English speaking priest read out a pre-written sermon while we giggled, got bitten by mosquitoes, and watched the strapless and  backless fashions; Christmas day lunch replete with pork curry and 'wattalappan' and uncle M's umpteenth stories from 1932; followed by a few days at a beach resort. Basically you can square it all off in 5 days. 

But now about what happened before I left town in Dec. In a one sentence nutshell I found myself in the starring role of a very bad Mexican teledrama.. or one of those romantic comedies gone awry. I promise I will write That Story one day soon, but for now suffice to say that it involved two men, one proposal, one new boyfriend, one soul mate, and massive doses of high stakes drama that played out over the course of five weeks, which left all three protagonists drained and in much need of space and time..  hence my trip to the East came at an opportune moment.

Part of the reason I couldn't bring myself to write in the last months is that so many crazy things were happening all at once, and my emotions were so all over the place that I didn't know what to chose to write about, or if to write at all. Eventually the choice was made for me by my own hesitation- I wrote nothing. That seemed less fake in a way than writing light-heartedly about random stuff while staying silent on the most important thing that was happening.

And every day, there was a new twist, some major new development in the story.  And little lazy slacker me- there's only so much I can cope with at once. For God sake I can only drink one cup of tea at a time. And I can definitely only love one person at a time. Loving two very amazing beautiful people - doing right by them, treating each kindly and with equanimity, having to think every action and every word through and through, it took a toll on this old goat. I mean, people, I am no spring chicken. My heart is all bruised and battered, I have never felt so pulled in so many directions, so caught between a rock and a hard place no matter which way I turned.

I have thought about whether I really want to tell this story. But given that this blog is dedicated to writing about love and the like, its not like I can get away without writing about some of it at least. So I will. Just not today.
 

Those Amazing First Times

I always fall into the trap of believing that I have exhausted people. That there is no one out there for me, nothing anyone can show me that I haven't seen already in some form.  Unbelievable then that I have met someone new. Who I like. It never ceases to amaze me that I still have the capacity to actually like someone (in that way).

For other people, making new friends or meeting new people may be more typical than it is for me. Given my permanent desire to isolate that wouldn't be too hard. The handful of really close people I have in my life I can never seem to get enough of. We spend hundreds of hours together and we never get tired of each other. But romance, thats usually a different story. I am so reluctant/lazy to give anyone a chance.  In those rare times when someone interesting crosses my path (which they pretty much have to do, since I don't cross many other people's paths) and they get close enough to start seeing who I am, I want to run away and bury my head in the sand. 

So with this new thing, I have been sitting around being all overwhelmed and excited and anxious and all those ridiculous things one feels in those early stages. There is nothing like those 'firsts'. Of course there is the far more mature trade-off of a secure/established relationship and what not, but if you don't dig the first moments of meeting someone new, you are really truly missing out. Sometimes things are painfully awkward, but even the awkwardness can be beautiful.. teach you things.

These are the days of maximum charm and well-masqueraded 'sweetness'. Its one of life's ultimate experiences.

The Golden Rule

So two months down the road, and suddenly I am thinking of that Anniversary date.. and something is bugging me. Something about the Golden Rule.. Treat others as you would like to be treated.

Its a simple principal that we all learnt in kindergarten. Basically if you act in a certain way toward another, and yet would not tolerate being treated that way in the same circumstances then you violate the rule. Every major religion covers this.

So I think of C. I never said thank you. Here's this stranger who went all out and did something really sweet for me, and all I had to do was say " thank you for a lovely evening' and I just didn't do it. I felt terrible. I tried to find his email address but my in-box had been cleared out.. I finally managed to track down the email through my friend. He probably hates me and I am dreading this, but I know what I have to do. 

Dear C,

You must have wondered what happened to me - and I don't blame you if you think I was awful. I am deeply sorry and I hope you accept my apologies.

What happened was that - remember I had told you that I had family coming to town? Well they did - and it was a super hectic couple of weeks, and then work suddenly became very hectic. None of this of course explains why I couldn't take a minute to reply to one of your calls or emails.

Anyway I just want to thank you for the beautiful evening you put together when you took me out - the dinner, the flowers, everything - its one of  the best dates I've ever been on.  You were so thoughtful and kind and generous. It was very special and I really did have a good time, and I absolutely should have thanked you, and I am so ashamed that I didn't.  The flowers by the way lasted forever and I totally enjoyed them :)

Best of luck in all, hope things are going well for you, - H

-----------------------

H,

I am glad you wrote. I was, of course, a little hurt, but I understood that you had family coming all the way from Sri Lanka, and I wasn't so full of myself to expect you to be enamored with me after one date. I am glad you had a good time with me. It was a good date, and it will remain a pleasant memory for me. One of the few things we truly own in this life :-) I am glad you decided to write back. That means a lot, and shows a level of emotional maturity that I deeply respect. I hope everything works out for you. Keep in touch, if you wish. You know where to find me. Take care. -C

-----------------------

There. Done.

The Anniversary Date

Post written & backdated from September 14:

I met C at a work friend's birthday party. One of those parties that I dread to go to but must because well its work, so my plan usually is to go in for exactly one hour, do my thing, and get out of there.

So C - 6"1, very blond, pretty cute in a lifeguard sorta way, with a nice dimply smile.  We talk about the cheese dip and the punch, his job (cardiovascular invasive specialist something or other), my job, his singing with the Royal Philharmonic, my writing, how Wash DC parties are full of political pointy heads, and how the music is always too loud to have a conversation at these things.

I say its midnight, time for Cinderella to go home, he says 'I would love to talk to you more, can I take you to dinner?'. I say ok, but Saturday is the only day I have free - and a Saturday night date is a big deal. Isn't that too much pressure?

He says no, he'd love to. And asks what my favorite restaurants are.

He decides on Firefly - this ultra-chic sorta place with a big firefly tree in the middle of the restaurant. He'd reserved one of the best tables in a quiet corner by the window. There was a HUGE vase of red roses and white orchids on the table. I thought.. hmm this is odd as it was minimalist decor and there were no flowers on the other tables.. but I chose to ignore it.

The food was over-prized but amazing. The conversation was pleasant, the evening was just lovely. I am sure there's a book somewhere that describes this as The Perfect Date.

The icing on the cake? The red roses and white orchids turned out to be for me, He had actually ordered them ahead of time to the restaurant. Oh My God. I just didn't know what to say. "I err.. umm wow.. umm thank you." I am one of those people who is rarely ever at a loss for words. But this was totally awkward. The effort he had put into planning this date and the $$ he had spent.. I was flattered and impressed, yet felt a little uneasy.. like am I missing something here? 

I ran home and called Natasha.
Natasha: honey- thats not a first date. Thats an anniversary date!!
Me: I know! So what the hell.. ?
Natasha: well did he try anything on?
Me: no, not at all! He walked me to the metro and said goodnight , and later sent me this really long text message to say he had an "incredible evening and really really wants to see me again. The whole thing is very Mills & Boons.
Natasha: Maybe he really does like you
Me: but he doesn't even know me??
Natasha: yeah thats probably why...  (see why I don't need enemies with friends like these?)

Well you can guess what happened. I didn't return his calls or emails. I don't know why. I really can't explain  it. He seemed like a decent guy. There was probably true potential. And I did what I always do - run away.

The Oddysey Years

"The Odyssey Generation are people in their thirties who are restless both personally and professionally. They are unsettled in their careers, and they are unmarried".

These articles are pretty interesting. Here I am in my early thirties, with a job I like, my own home, and savings for a rainy day. I have best friends who are like family, family who are like best friends, and a life that is thoroughly rooted in the 21st century. I have my banker, therapist, personal trainer, agent, and mortgage lender on speed dial. Not restless but it is true that...

I don't have a marriage, kids, or a sense of being settled in an assured stable partnership. Now am sitting here thinking - OMG! that is odd. What happened?! Then I think, wait but thats everyone's story. I can't tell you how many men and women I know here in Washington DC - some mere acquiescences, some good friends - who are in the same position, and kind of collectively incredulous as to how we all got here...  and how its actually a pretty damn good place to be in, despite it being very different to what we may have imagined in our twenties.

And I am not sure that we are wondering about 'lost', not sure of ourselves, as the article implies.  In fact some of these people have probably never been more self-assured, or more content. Our generation - we are smart on what the odds are for marriage  - ie. HALF of them end in divorce - and we want to be very very  certain. Society and religion are simply not putting the pressures they used to on keeping unions together. And it really doesn't matter anymore whether you are in Sri Lanka or Switzerland - the decline of the institution of marriage holds true everywhere. 

Now, I am totally not saying this is a good (or bad) thing. Who knows. I am not God. I am simply commenting here on a situation that a whole generation of young people are finding themselves in. Those of us who do not really trust the wisdom of things handed down to us kinda wanna take the time to figure things out for ourselves. The word ‘odyssey’ captures that sense of exploration, journey, quest.

For many that means world travel, adventure, wonderlust, a kick-ass career. But for me - seriously I just want more information damn it! More data points that it will work out. Like I don't want to settle down, find a suitable mate, and reproduce my incredible genetic code? Hell yeah! But I am not stupid, and I know that this is a very tall order. Better to take the requisite time to get it right.

Also, of course we are an entitled generation - educated, well heeled, and well-informed. We don't need to just tick the box and procreate. We want to marry someone we love/like, someone who is a companion and with whom we can enjoy movie night and Sunday brunch (and trekking in the Himalayas for those of us so inclined ), and above all, form a relationship that will last.

Marry someone who fits your personality, not your checklist

When I was 20 my checklist for a potential mate closely resembled one of those 1950s husbands, like the father character from the Brady Bunch. Its really embarrasing to admit this now, but I kind of imagined myself baking cakes, dressed in pearls and high heels, no less, while awaiting the arrival home of the picture perfect all-knowing husband.

Even my parents - two extremely open-minded and progressive people - were confused. "We didn't spend gazillions on your education for you to be a stepford wife!" I don't know - I guess I'd read too many bad romance novels. Hey - I was young! Cut me some slack.

Anyway, I quickly established through experience that these criteria were all wrong. There I was growing exponentially, as one does in ones twenties, and soon had decided that I didn't need to be taken care of, what I needed was someone ambitious, clever, wildly successful like my brother. And I decided to scrap the whole Lankan Catholic thing (I had been really big on that) as there was no proof that this contingent was better than anyone else.

So off I went to B-school at 28, armed with a new and improved checklist:
1) tall, dark, handsome
2) stellar resume (to match mine of course!)
3) uber-ambitious, driven to accomplish

Again, my parents were a bit like "WTF??". Not that they say that. They said something like "Hira, you need someone who will give you a significant amount of attention and spend a big potion of his time with you, not some alpha-male who is chasing his own tail."

I didn't listen of course. And I fell for, semi-enjoyed, and ultimately suffered through a couple more relationships with the tall, dark, handsome, ultra-male archtype.

Then one fine day in 2004 I met someone who was the exact polar opposite of everything on any of my lists. Someone who is in actual fact a lot like me - the real me - laid back, irreverent about most things in life, and about as alpha-male as a blueberry smoothie. Someone, who like me, has a deep need for reassurance and understanding, freedom and solitude. We get each other perfectly, right down to the full spectrum of OCD afflictions we share between us. Soul mates. Or rather like one soul with two heads.

Of course, as everyone on both sides of the Atlantic knows, this relationship has its own issues, and we are not together. But the point is that when two people's fundamental personality strengths and flaws fit seamlessly, its a pretty powerful thing. Its easy, effective, and you never have to explain yourself to the other person.

On the other hand, lists that reduce a person to a bunch of pluses and minuses is artificial and largely unhelpful. At worst, you get it wrong, and it ends up being a painful mistake - you spend the rest of your life with someone you choose according to your 20 year old limited view of the world. At best you get it right, and the list is accurate insofar as it correctly identifies the list of things the person you are married to should have but then.. I imagine that being married to a list can be soul-crushing.

The Mercy Date - Just Say No

(I thought I'll write another bad date post because people seems to have a morbid fascination with my misadventures).

So Mercy date.

About a month ago, I was at the bookstore and I was looking high and low for this book, Procrastination: Identifying the Symptoms, Overcoming the Obstacles, because, as everyone in the western hemisphere knows, I have issues in that area.

Minutes later this (very) young looking boy - probably a student who works there - comes over to help me. 

"So - procrastination huh?"
"Yeah sometimes its tough.. "
"Oh me too! I can totally relate. I never start my assignments until the night before.."
"Um hmm.. thats nice" (he had found the book, I was trying to make my exit)

"So - you seem to come here often - I've seen you a bunch of times"
"Really? I uh.. like to read.. " (lame I know.. but how else can I explain the inordinate amounts of time I spend there?)
"Hey - I was wondering - you wanna get a coffee sometime?"
"What? I don't think so.. !"
"Why not??"
"Because you look like you are 15 years old... ?"
"No! I am 21. You're probably like 25? Come on!"
"Yeah, NO!"  (flattered but No).

Three days later, I go back to the bookstore to return the book because I couldn't get past the first 5 pages, and who do I run into behind the coffee bar - but that little stud Alex (that was his name).

"Listen I hope you were not mad at me the other day..  I just think you are really interesting bla bla blaaa and seriously, like, age should be no barrier bla blaaaaaa ... "
"Thank you. I am very flattered, but - "
"Come on, please?? Its just one coffee."

This continued for a while, until finally I thought what the hell, its not going to kill me to have a coffee. And  you've got to give the dude some credit for his persistence.

So we go on this coffee date. And of course it was excruciatingly EXCRUCIATING. He totally didn't get that I was being kind. He totally didn't get that this was not a real date. He totally thought I was interested in him. 

"So what you think? We should give this a try.. I really feel it as potential."
"What??!! Are you insane?"
"We are having a good time right? So we should see where this goes.. "
"What 'this'? There is no 'this'! I was only trying to - "
"I think you are very special. So different to all these girls I meet.. more mature you know."
"Yeah, um, thats because I am like a decade older??"
"Awesome! Thats, like, so cool."

Sweet Jesus, Mary, and Joseph - someone please shoot me. How do I get myself into these situations.

So next time you think of going on a date purely because you think some sweet thing is going to die if you don't, or because you don't want to be rude or unkind, or because someone is being persistent, think a little longer. It only gets harder and harder to say no. It encourages the other person, and worse, makes them believe things that are not going to happen. If you have trouble being assertive (or, like me, have NO boundaries to speak of) then it gets even trickier.

Whoever thought one small word can be this hard. Angels are supposed to have mercy, and as a certified angel, "no" is a hell of a challenge.

Date with a Neuroscientist

Cross-posted on BlogHer

Thats two hours I am never going to get back.

Last week a friend calls up and tells me about - lets call him - Mr. Rightish. Rightish moved to DC some months ago from Manhattan, to do some research for the Pentagon, and is looking to meet people, perhaps a nice girl etc. etc. Good looking guy, very well educated (PhD, teaching at NYU), 31, 5'11, dark hair, dark eyes.

As anyone who knows me even in a cursory fashion knows, I have a thing for intelligence, nerdiness, and in particular, brain surgeons and rocket scientists. So I thought - brain-scientist? I can work with that. And he looked cute from the picture (which my friend forwarded). I hate blind dates but this might just be worth it.

So we met for drinks at a downtown euro-trashy watering hole (his choice, not mine). Things started off well enough. For the most part he was who my friend said he was - a well educated, confident, rather nicely groomed dude.

He told me about grad school in San Diego and studying sleep patterns in rats, and then about his job here researching biochemical something or other for the US military, and then about missing NYC and how small DC is, and then about... . I feigned interest, asked questions, and smiled in all the right places.

So here's the thing - at no point in the entire two hours did he make any attempt to ask me one single  question. Like, maybe - "So what do you do in your job?", or perhaps "where are you from?", or at a bare minimum, "so you grew up in Switzerland? Nope. Nothing. Zilch,. Nada. Not even when there were definite pauses in the conversation or at the clear END of one. There was just silence, until I could bear it no more and asked another question. And he responded with another diatribe.

Once, just once, I think he asked me something, but then proceeded to glance over my shoulder at a fly on the wall or something that must have been really fascinating behind me, while I responded. First, are there people like this, really? Second, it was a humbling experience, because usually men are, um, pretty enthralled by 'how different I am". 

Anyway, two very long hours later, when he was walking me over to the metro, we got talking on comedy (and I think, ah finally at least an interesting mutual topic!), and then he drops the bomb. "I hate Jon Stewart  and his ilk  - so talentless"

"Er, but why?? The Daily Show is very funny and very clever."

"Its not clever at all. All they do is make fun of people. Easy. I could do it with my eyes closed."

Yeah. WHATEVER. I don't think I could ever really date someone who doesn't get the Daily Show. That would be like dating an ultra-rightwing neo-con Republican. OMG - maybe thats what he was???!!

In any event, the point is that while he may have been a big scientist and all, intelligent on paper, ultimately he was boring and pompous, and about as interesting as a door nob.

And this, my friends, its why I don't date. Why I don't like meeting new people. And why its all such a COLOSSAL waste of time.

Most Awesomely Bad Breakup Songs

This is VH1's official 40 Most Awesomely Bad Breakup Songs.

OMG - I LOVE more than half of these songs!! Yeah am a big fan of really bad 80s songs. I also generally like elevator music and hotel lobby bands.

No but seriously you've got to watch this to really get the flavor of it - with all the crazy fashions, cheesy lyrics, and the biting commentary, its HIL-arious.

  40. Total   Eclipse Of The Heart - Bonnie Tyler
  39. Separate   Lives - Phil Collins ft. Marilyn Martin
  38. Unbreak   My Heart - Toni Braxton
  37. Don't   Know What You Got (Till It's Gone) - Cinderella
  36. On   Bended Knee - Boyz II Men
  35. Say   It Isn't So- Hall & Oates
  34. www.memory - Alan Jackson
  33. Headed   For A Heartbreak - Winger
  32. Look   Away - Chicago
  31. You're   In Love - Wilson Phillips
  30. Don't   Go Away Mad (Just Go Away) - Motley Crue
  29. Red   Red Wine - UB40
  28. Looking   For A New Love - Jodie Watley
  27. If   I Could Turn Back Time - Cher
  26. F!#% It (I Don't Want You Back) - Eamon (lyrics   not available)
  25. Still   Loving You - Scorpions
  24. Sara   - Starship
  23. Stronger   - Britney Spears
  22. At   This Moment - Billy Vera
  21. I   Miss You - Klymaxx
  20. When   It's Over - Sugar Ray
  19. Broken   Wings - Mr. Mister
  18. The   Tin Man - Kenny Chesney
  17. Don't   Turn Around - Ace Of Base
  16. All   Cried Out - Lisa Lisa & Cult Jam
  15. From   The Bottom Of My Broken Heart - Britney Spears
  14. She   Hates Me - Puddle Of Mudd
  13. On   My Own - Patti Labelle & Michael McDonald
  12. Missing   - Everything But The Girl
  11. I'll   Be Over You - Toto
  10. Missing   You - John Waite
  9. It   Must Have Been Love - Roxette
  8. It's   Not Right But It's Okay - Whitney Houston
  7. I   Still Believe - Brenda K. Starr
  6. One   More Night - Phill Collins
  5. Hard   Habit To Break - Chicago
  4. How   Am I Supposed To Live Without You - Michael Bolton
  3. Foolish   Beat - Debbie Gibson
  2. All   Around The World - Lisa Stansfield
  1. Blame   It On The Rain - Milli Vanilli

Healthy Dependence or Clinginess?

You call it clinginess, I call it healthy dependence. I have been arguing for a long time that independence is overrated.

I don't mean independence in the sense of being able to take care of oneself - in terms of financial responsibility, your health, you safety, and your physical and emotional wellbeing. I have learnt the hard way that no one else can provide these things for you. I have to take care of these fundamental things for myself. Even if someone were willing to, and I let them, its a totally bad idea - because what defines a healthy functioning adult is being able to stand on my own two feet on such basic matters.

No,no. I am talking about the type of independence that stops people from really being there for each other, from caring for each other, from committing to each other. For example, a woman in a live-in relationship says that she will only do her own laundry or only cook for herself because she wants to "maintain her independence". She's so missing the point.

Another example: when one member of my family is going through a tough time (usually me), one or more of the other members will drop everything and come running to provide some moral strength and support. At that moment, I need them, as much as they feel the need to help me. Does this make us dependent? Probably. Ours is one of those families that is a full-on lovefest. But maybe thats not like the worst thing in the world.

Who knows, maybe we really are co-dependent. There - another word that is overused/misused, and totally gives healthy dependence a bad name. A whole cottage industry of therapy and psychoanalysis now exists in this country who label caring as a disease. But here's what I think. Dependence involves trust. Love. True love is dependent. There is a vulnerability by definition. You don't want to live without each other (You can, but you don't want to. there's a difference). Some of the coolest, funnest couples that I know, some of the most inspiring love stories have an element of "can't do without you crazy annoying beautiful thing ".

Anyway, so the NY Times finally agrees with me. Apparently studies have found that people who score high on dependence do better in college because they are more likely to ask for help, and they are more satisfied in their romantic relationships, because dependence creates a "protective warmth that cements relationships in times of stress."

Dependence gets such a bad rap too often. Its about time there is a change in the tide. After all no man is an island. Our vulnerability is what makes us human. What makes us able to love.