Can there be true love? If falling in love and loving your children, or every feeling can be interpreted as a survival mechanism or a way to ensure the species perpetuates itself, then can there be true love?

Can there be true love?

I’m into questions that can’t be answered. They’re not always leading anywhere, but they are thought-provoking and could open up your horizons (or lead to depression, it depends!). Maybe the philosopher in me is finally killing the hairdresser, who knows…

Can there be true love? If falling in love (in Greek there’s a word for that: eros) and loving your children are just chemical reactions in the brain, if friendship and caring for your community is an ancient instinct so we can be included to the “packs” and stay safe. If every feeling can be interpreted as a survival mechanism or a way to ensure the species perpetuates itself, then can there be true love?

Is everything about survival

All that without denying or question fundamental types of love in my life. I know what I feel about my son, husband, my mom, my dad, my siblings. How different those types of love can be and I know it’s some kind of love that I have about coffee or Paris. What I feel, have felt and have received from other people, or from my dog, is real.

I always say, and truly believe, that my dog, Loca, is the type of dog which if I died, she wouldn’t leave my grave. I feel so much love when she looks at me. It’s touching, sweet and I’m so proud to be so loved. But is it actually love? Or am I the one she feels she depends for her own survival? Just because I raise her, trained her and have been responsible for her, just because she feels safe with me, she wants to be around me. And then, what’s my love for her? Some kind of mistaken mothering towards a different species?

Can magic and science coexist? Or maybe we’re talking about the same thing with different words. But does understanding all those feelings really matter?

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References 

That guy who looked at her breasts

When any type of love or hurt and rejection can be psychologically traced back to primary instincts, can we ever dwell in the emotions, get lost in them, feel their magic, be true romantics? Can magic and science coexist? Or maybe we’re talking about the same thing with different words. But does understanding all those feelings really matter?

The only type of conclusion I’m able to come up with is this: questioning everything won’t make you (me) a cynic. Exploring feelings, being interested in science and wanting answers is not only fine, but it is also fascinating. But, while looking for answers, we have to learn to be ok with not getting them. And while we learn about feelings, we need to remind ourselves to feel them often.

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Until next time, take care

Evi | A Friday fine art signature

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