Remember the times when you have exclaimed that the chemistry between you and this girl (or boy) of your dreams is just perfect. Well, you are right, chemistry really has a lot to do about this feeling called love.
It's called phenylethylamine. It's a natural amphetamine that gathers in the synapses in the neurons of the limbic system of the cerebral cortex. It has been shown to be present in high concentrations when persons experience feelings commonly expressed as love or extreme affection.
That's probably why you feel somewhat intoxicated when you are in love. So we are dealing with a "natural amphetamine." Love is a prohibited drug? I suspected as much. Should we now fall in love under the supervision of a trained professional? A love-struck brain is suffering a chemical imbalance. Sooner or later, the pharmaceutical industry will come up with a Prozac type of drug to bring you back to normal, if that's what you want.
That's cool. You can go virtual and just pop a pill of this natural amphetamine and experience the emotions and thrills of love without the fuss and the mess of doing it the old fashioned way. Or maybe, the time will come when your lady love says she has a headache or is not in the mood, the love pill is there to take care of the problem.
A love pill is also infinitely more convenient than having to go to all the trouble people have to go through today, Valentine's Day. Imagine not having to worry about traffic jams, impossible parking lots and crowded restaurants tonight just to celebrate that thing called love. Take a love pill, darling and stop bugging me!
But something's missing. Love can't be just about a chemical reaction in our brain. I came across this article in the Washington Post that traced the origins of this concept of love through the years. The article says love is not the same as sex or marriage. Love is an elusive concept. Marriage is for procreation and sex is something physical. The three don't necessarily exist together. Except that society is forcing us to get them all together and called it marriage. That's why it does not always work.
The Washington Post article by staff writer DeNeen L. Brown elaborates on the distinction. "Social historians have suggested that the last millennium saw the birth of the concept of romantic love; that before then, through much of the world, love and ardor was suspect; that it did not ordinarily accompany sex; that the coupling of man and woman was largely utilitarian; that one married and procreated for replenishment of the work force, for duty to God, for personal vanity."
That might have worked then. Soon you don't even have to have sex and marriage to ensure the survival of the human species. Cloning will do the trick. I can have a kid from the skin off my nose and I can do that all by myself. All I need is a petri dish. But that's not much fun. I guess even then, love will still be there to intoxicate the best of us.
For all the trouble it brings, love has got to be something really special. The same POST article related the story of Abelard, a French philosopher and theologian. I found the story interesting, even touching. It also somehow gave me an inkling of what love is all about.
It was 1119, and this Abelard person, the Post article relates "has moved into this richly furnished home, the house of an elder of his church, to school this young woman in the ways of the Lord, the mysteries of eternity, the richness of the examined life.
"Her name is Heloise. She is a rarity, a female of intellectual accomplishment. This, to a man like Abelard, is most seductive. He is smitten. No, not smitten. He is lost in lust.
"What Heloise feels is a churning desire. She admits she would follow him into Hell itself, if necessary. "What Abelard feels is monstrous. Its flames lick at his vitals and threaten his soul. It is not because of his exalted position or her tender age; at 17, she is considered well ripened for courtship.
"It is because love, this sort of passionate love, is prohibited of all men. Abelard knows this because his church is quite clear on the subject: To feel intensely for another human being, even one's spouse, is a human frailty. It is a betrayal of God, for whom one's love must be pure and perfect and in competition with nothing earthly. The Roman Catholic Church says so.
"This is love in the Western world early in the millennium. If it is there, it dare not speak. Here they are, alone together, Abelard and Heloise. What will he do?
"Let him tell it:
" 'Our kisses far outnumbered our reasoned words. Our hands sought less the book than each other's bosoms; love drew our eyes together far more than the lesson drew them to the pages of our text.
"A baby was born. Heloise and Abelard married in secret, though she said she would rather be his lover than his wife. Heloise's uncle and protector, Canon Fulbert, was horrified. What happened next made the story of Abelard and Heloise the first great love story of the millennium, perhaps even the greatest of all. The best love stories are invariably tragedies.
"Canon Fulbert took his revenge. 'One night, while I, all unsuspecting, was asleep in a secret room in my lodgings, they broke in with the help of one of my servants, whom they had bribed,' Abelard wrote. 'They cut off those parts of my body with which I had done that which was the cause of their sorrow.'
"Emasculated, Abelard became a recluse, teaching theology. Heloise became a nun, though she claimed she loved Abelard more than God Himself. She lived under the heavy robes of the convent with a burning desire for his flesh and what was left of the memories of their furtive meetings.
"They never saw each other again."
So it was that love caused the unkindest cut of all. If only Abelard knew it was just a chemical thing working in his brain... As the Washington Post article concludes: "The more phenylethylamine, the more you love. When it disappears, you suffer withdrawal. That explains everything. Doesn't it?"
Call Ping Lacson. Call Fred Lim. Call Bob Garon.
Love is a prohibited drug? It is addicting. It can get you into trouble. It can drive you insane. But then, even the momentary happiness makes it worth the trouble... sometimes. Look at Abelard... he lost his thing ...but the memories of those brief moments of love made him happy the rest of his life. But I wonder what would have happened if Abelard and Heloise were actually allowed to live as husband and wife... would the Washington Post still call their story the best love story of all time?
Happy Valentine's Day to you all. Have fun today. The economy needs a boost.
Valentine's Dream
Here's a Valentine's Day joke from love doctor, Ernie Espiritu.
A woman awoke excitedly on Valentine's Day and announced enthusiastically to her husband, "I just dreamed that you gave me a diamond necklace for Valentine's Day! What do you think it means?"
With certainty in his voice, the man said "You'll know tonight."
That evening the man came home with a small package and handed it to his wife. With anxious anticipation the woman quickly opened the package to find a book entitled -- "The Meaning of Dreams".
(Boo Chanco's e-mail address is bchanco@bayantel.com.ph )