Does romantic love have degrees and/or levels? Can you love someone a little? A lot? Or is it all or none? I think the truest love has to be the strongest love, too -- the most intense, the purest. But I don't think it's possible to feel true love lightly, is it? Hearkening back to that SIMPSONS quote the other day, before I got sidetracked by the flu, the "true love lightly" is the "I Love You Like I Love Fresca" school of love, which, of course, is precisely the punchline of that joke. That can't be true love at all.
But are there shades of romantic love? I don't have a proper answer to this, except to view it in terms of the good and bad of a loved one -- if the good outweighs the bad (and the nature of the good and the bad itself is well-defined), then you love them, and if the bad outweighs the good in your eyes, then you love them less or not at all. And if the good vastly outweighs the bad, you love them the most. A continuum?
I don't know if that calculation is honestly made at the front end, when one is enamored of a new love, enthralled by them -- the "honeymoon period" of a romance, that dopamine thrill ride. At that point, a person is probably highly unlikely to be able to objectively assess the worth of a person they love, because they're just too high. And I'm only using "worth" in a romantic love context, because, obviously, if somebody's net worth is a factor in it, then you're falling into a rather commercial category of relationship, there. At the front end of a love, it's highly unlikely that one can make a reasoned or proper calculation of their love, because they've got pinwheels in their eyes -- that's how people fall in love with the wrong person. And the type of soul who is willing to actually fall in love will do that, versus the person afraid to commit to love, who may not risk anything at all, first and foremost being their own heart.
So, what's "right" -- what feels right? Are some loves stronger than others? More intense, more "right?"
Small wonder that the notion of "chemistry" comes into play (and it probably does, in all sorts of ways). If a couple has good chemistry, they accentuate each other, they complement each other, and are stronger together than apart by that chemistry (and sexual chemistry is surely part of that large alchemical bonding of love, as well). That's a powerful indicator and reinforcement of love -- that's an incentive. It's why some couples form that kind of a gestalt, a blessed synergy of two souls that leaves both parts stronger than they were alone. That kind of unity is apparent to those who see it: "They're such a great couple!" "What a happy couple!"
But the only true measure of happiness is whether the couple is happy -- whether both parties are happy together and happy with each other. I know friends were floored when they found out Exene and I were splitting, because we appeared to be a strong and happy couple -- but that was only because our relationship was built on me making her happy, and I was good at that. That was the bricks and mortar of our union. I stopped laying those bricks, and the structure came crashing down.
So, the only true measure of a couple's merit is whether the members of it are both happy, are both giving and taking equally (reciprocity is a vital component). High energy = low entropy. Stronger together than apart? Happy, energized, not drained. High entropic unions are, on the other hand, incredibly draining, accentuate weaknesses and faults and flaws, and bring out the worst in one or (more likely) both parties.
Those are the couples who actually seem to hate one another, or not like each other very much. I've known a few like that in my day, who actually can't stand each other, and I'd wonder "Why are they together??" You'd see them at parties actually sniping at each other, or even flat-out arguing, which was always uncomfortable. The "liferaft" school of love seems so co-dependent and joyless -- a pair of soaked, parched, and starving souls clinging to one another on a chunk of flotsam, on a perpetually stormy sea, not a speck of land in sight, sharks circling, clinging to each other because they're afraid of drowning? Bliss? Not in my book.
Love's a dance, not a grim death march. I mean, you can make it a death march, or a gladiatorial fight to the death, I suppose, but fuck, that's not fun. I mean, life is a death march, strictly speaking -- blessed entropy is going to claim us all eventually. So, from the Romantic/Epicurean's standpoint, make it a dance and a banquet, why not, so at least it's a happy trek before eventual oblivion.
This seems like a meander from my original premise about levels of love, but it kind of makes sense to me -- if the relationship is good, if both players are good to one another, are happy with one another and each other, then that's a better, stronger, worthier love. If you can just be you, and still be loved for that, then that's a stronger, worthier love. If you can look at someone just being themselves and find relish and delight in that, then that's a stronger, worthier love. The opposites, of course, point to structural flaws in the love, itself, or else in the individuals in the relationship.
This might be a "to be continued." I'm still thinking about this one....
