So let’s just jump right in. Fuck all with the bandaid placing, mommy kissing boo-boo’s, cuddle and coddle waiting for someone to present you with a freaking trophy for mediocrity and actually get raw. SOULMATE LOVE. Is. A. Bullshit. Concept.

The cut and dry. We as humans are fundamentally animalistic. 99 percent of us are heavily reliant on our reptilian brain. The part of us that needs to survive. I mean really survive and allow the execution of all our base needs to be attained. Makes sense, no? Do what you can so that you can attempt to “live” in the 9-5, Monday through Friday grind that has been forced upon us as normal and necessary since it dawned on humans that killing is no longer acceptable means to any gains. No room for a soulmate there, it’s just our brain stem and with survival as its priority, it won’t hear of it. You see, that word belongs elsewhere.

That feeling should belong to the amygdala. The name alone screams “Hey girl, hey! Come hot mess with me! We’ve got Air Supply on retainer, waterproof mascara that is guaranteed to leave you resembling a panda that is melting from the inside out, and cheap, blush whine ” (Freudian slip? I think not!!) emotional! For the record, the amygdala is a gray matter in the brain that reaches the size of an almond, which, ladies, is where most of us tend to lounge. We are so comfortable in our amygdala that we hunker down and wrap it around us like a weighted, down blanket; we wear it like grandma pajamas, feeties included. We curl right up in that little almond slice of bleakness and from there we romanticize. I’m not saying all women and all men are trapped within these particular boundaries. I’m just laying out my perspective as your friendly neighborhood cynic. That is why you’re here, isn’t it? Anyway… let’s get back to our lesson so I can truly break down the art of LOVE. Which; fun fact…there is a zero acceptance policy for the L word in our feeling nut. This space is crammed with other emotions, far more important, but that’s another whole page so we will circle back to this in a moment. I know, you’re thrilled! You can’t wait! I get it.

The neocortex… Your thinking brain. Seriously though, fuck that dude. Ain’t nobody got time for that. Why climb into that cold, methodical place?! There we would be forced to learn, grow and understand things on a level above caveman and victim. Persuaded to be accountable and forced to evolve! Give me a pity party and allow me to club someone to death over that any day, because where is the fun in actually being rational?! I couldn’t imagine willingly staying in a place where the overthinking and over analyzing is placed back upon my own frail shoulders. Where would I be without agreement that I’ve had a terrible start and what a little fighter I am?! How will I be able to manipulate the emotional outpouring that I need to justify why I’ve been so (lazy) unlucky in both life and love?! No thanks. Put me back in my almond.

Now.. The L word… a feeling that supposedly stems from an organ that is quite literally all one way valves… think about this. The heart -the actual symbol of love is a one way street. Everything coming in and going out is purely devised to make sure you as a human can live another day. So where does the idea of love come from? It’s purely selfish. It is the desperation to fill our holes, our creases, our gaps with the ideals that someone else can complete us, making us look smooth, flawless, perfect, whole. We try to custom fit other humans to our needs. So in reality we don’t feel what we categorize love to be, at all, it’s simply feeling “temporarily” complete.

So let’s revisit our feeling nut and the theory behind the soulmate love. In order to ease all those pesky emotions that are rolling around in that crammed little gray almond, the projections we throw on others to feel like we are truly seen (which is the ultimate goal for every human) we decided the word love; which in its own right is just another person making us feel validated, seen and understood. What a crock of shit. We’re all just sitting in our pain saying that if we could find the soulmate love we’d be complete.

Now, you may disagree with everything I wrote. Maybe I’m just full of piss and vinegar. I desire nothing more than to open my door when I get home and have my better half ready and waiting to fill all my gaps and fold me into a safe space that releases all my insecurities, but I always end up disappointed, because when I’m in my neocortex energy, I understand that it’s simply a thick, tight bundle of everything that I’m missing and there is no soulmate love to fix what’s broken.

on a brighter note here is a love haiku:

You say you love me,

I say I love you as well,

What a crock of shit.

I hope you enjoyed my comeback piece. I was just teasing about not believing in love. Isn’t that the most basic emotion we have? I just love to hate love. I am always hopeful, however, that someday I’ll be pleasantly surprised.

Yours respectfully, from a ❤️ three sizes too small,

CR