It’s Not Rocket Science, Just Love Me Like This

I have a theory. It’s not a theory at all based in science, but is it even possible to measure emotion? Can we ever really base love on science when we’re dealing with the human heart?

The Theory of Evolution explains how all life is connected; if the world around us is evolving, then we must evolve with it. If we want to survive, we must try to adapt. But are we all adapting, or are some of us just shutting down like the technology we’re connected to?

Here’s my theory, and we can call it The Theory of Complicating Everything(™) because as long as the world around us is evolving, the idea of love is becoming increasingly vague. We have access to so many different people and are constantly being fed new information, and with that, life has changed from just getting married and settling down, to finding a “soulmate” or finding our “true self.” Whatever that means.

But my theory states that the more and more you decide to overthink things, the more you are going to end up staying the same. The more you try to use your head instead of your heart, the more likely you will stand in your own way.

And so, I’m slowly figuring out the science of my own heart; the laws of my own physics, where me and my energy matter, and my textbook is constantly evolving. Sometimes as human beings we don’t think we just react, and those reactions, no matter how unpleasant, will happen in their own beautiful, illogical, and completely unpredictable way.

In my scientific method, there are some laws of attraction of which I am absolutely certain.

I don’t want to be a prediction; someone you just stumbled upon and thought within minutes of meeting that you made some grand discovery about yourself. Someone who you don’t bother getting to know because you concluded based off how I look that I would be good enough to get you some biological result. I don’t want to be someone you saw as perfect because of how blissful things were in the beginning, and now you hypothesize that things will never get ugly.

I don’t want to be a comparison. I don’t want you to put me up on the scale with every girl you know, where I’m forced to try to balance so that you could see which side carries more baggage. I don’t want to be a confirmation bias on whom you project all your preconceived beliefs. Someone who you provoke to mess up so that I can confirm your preconceptions of relationships.

I don’t want to be analyzed. I don’t want every move I make to be put under a microscope for you to dissect and pick apart in every argument. I don’t want every mistake I make to go into your ideology of me so you’re able to throw on your lab coat and speculate the kind of person you think I am.

I don’t want to be controlled. I don’t want you to act the way you always act, even when I tell you it’s hurting me, just because you’re used to it. I don’t want to be the dependent variable that you can manipulate, and then expect me to be agreeable and unresponsive.

I don’t want to be tested. I don’t want to be constantly told the answer because you think your theories bear more logic than mine. Maybe that are different ways of thinking, I don’t want to be judged so harshly so that I’m destined to either pass or fail.

I want a love where the chemicals are compatible enough to come together and form an entirely new substance; where personalities don’t sit on top of each other, forcing the other one to the bottom with the density of our thoughts. I want a love that’s sustainable; where there are no right or wrong answers, just problems and their solutions.

I want to be loved as my own one-person species, and independent of all other outside phenomena.

That’s how I want to be loved because love isn’t supposed to be rocket science.