Love is a Drug

Love is a drug. There’s a great high when you find it, and this huge withdrawal when it goes away. Even if it’s one night, one week, or several years, the high is intoxicating. The kind of feeling that makes you roll down your windows and crank the music up loud because every song that comes on the radio is amazing. That feeling can just as easily be withdrawn. He hasn’t texted since we met…withdrawal. We stopped talking after our second date…withdrawal. You’d think we’d become desensitized to that high in order to protect ourselves from the withdrawal, yet we keep on coming back for more. Over and over again we take the hit of love, even though withdrawal looms around the corner.

Despite the references above, I have never taken drugs of any sort, but I read an article today about the affects of sugar addiction and the parallels were remarkably similar to the highs and lows of drug use…and love. It feels outstanding when you take that first bite of the cupcake and the first flirtation. And downright awful when you take sugar out of your diet and love out of your heart.

I’ve noticed this same up and down feeling this year with the guys I’ve dated. I’ll meet a guy and think, “Oh, he’s so wonderful. He’s different than any other guy I’ve ever met. How much would I love being a firefighter’s wife?!” The birds are singing and the best music ever is blaring with the windows down. Then it ends abruptly. Withdrawal.

Two weeks later, a new guy comes around. “Oh, he’s so wonderful. He’s different than any other guy I’ve ever met. How much would I love being a musician’s wife?!” The birds are singing and the best music ever is blaring with the windows down. Then it ends abruptly. Withdrawal.

A month later, a new guy comes around. “Oh, he’s so wonderful. He’s different than any other guy I’ve ever met. How much would I love being an artist’s wife?!” The birds are singing and the best music ever is blaring with the windows down. Then it ends abruptly. Withdrawal.

Take the hit of love once and you can’t stop. Just like Pringles, once you pop, you can’t stop (I call this the Pringles Effect). That high feels so good and it’s addictive. It’s why we keep putting ourselves through shitty dates, inappropriate tinder conversations, and heartbreak. It just feels so damn good…when it’s good…it’s almost like the withdrawal is a distant shadow. Maybe our hearts are made of armor that can get chinks but don’t break. Or maybe the desire for full and complete mind-blowingly good love is so much greater than the obstacles we face along the way, that we persevere. Keep on going despite the nausea, shakes, and the tears. If love is a drug, give me another hit.

Guard-your-Heart

More proof and photo credit here and here.

One thought on “Love is a Drug”

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s