“Love is not so effective on the human brain, when all we feel is fear. For we are three steps in this life, and when we have found love, we found it in the darkness. We found it amidst our fears. When we begin to lose love, or simply lose, we must work. We must preserve our love the same way we preserve life. We must preserve love, so we do not recede back to that darkness.”– Modern Romanticism
The human brain, designed of three stages: loss, development, developed. Of reptilian, mammalian, and primate. Human nature compels us to survive, to be away from death. When love is found, humans have ascended straight past the point of development, to being developed. To being complete, that is, because personal human love is personal completion, of the individual.
When humans personally love, they are complete. When humans begin to lose love, they feel as though loss is bound to take place. Yet, within work, within the mammalian brain, there is hope. One hopes, through work, to reach that safe destination, once more. No human is any lesser, nor greater, when they are working to preserve, or simply working.
Why quit, when the mammalian brain is signaling to us that we must work, to preserve what we have found?
For we will believe that it cannot be lost, this love, so easily as we have found it, if we are willing to work for its preservation. A man protects a woman, preserves her, only because he finds her beautiful. There is no other reason to that. A man holds his complete self, comprehends that without her, he is detached from life, itself. Therefore, what work will he do for himself, without sparking the dread of meaninglessness?
Love is completion to what is found. If about to be lost, then work should be the necessary drive to keep the love together.
If one gives up, one is a coward, and one is weak. Yet, to fall into the madness of love, is a blessing of itself. It is a pain that wreaks no havoc, though allows purpose to be felt and destination to be seen. For as nothing lasts forever, pain won’t, too. Pain, whether of mental or physical, is merely the presence of the worker deep in their toil.
To preserve the child, the sculpture, the painting, the house one calls a home, all requires work. Why lose it, if not to view such things as simply material or expendable?
The one who divorces easily is the one who treats human life as a convenience.