Love’s hard to kill, but warm heart finally turns to cold indifference

By David McElroy · April 9, 2018

One of the greatest mysteries of life is why the heart wants what it wants.

If we were truly rational creatures, romantic love wouldn’t exist, because there’s nothing rational about it. It comes when it wants. It sometimes stays when it’s no longer welcome. Love is hard to kill — like a stubborn weed. It can stick around and make us feel crazy because of the intensity of the need and the longing.

But when the heart is finally finished with someone, the last of the flame dies. It’s no longer love or hate or desire or anger. All that remains is cold indifference.

What makes a heart decide to love one person above all? What causes the heart to stubbornly stick with that obsession when it makes no sense? And what causes the fever to break? What causes love to die?

I’ve been in love five times in my life and each one has been very different. In each case, I didn’t think the love could possibly die. Especially with earlier loves, they were immature forms that probably weren’t destined to last. At least one was with someone who was seriously dysfunctional. (When I heard from that one after awhile of silence, a psychologist said to me, “Burn it!” She rarely expressed her recommendations so strongly.)

As I’ve gotten older and have a greater understanding of what I want and what I need, my heart has been quick to know what it wanted. And it’s been right. I’ve fallen in love quickly — and the end of that sort of love has been very slow and very painful. When my heart found what it needed, I was willing to sacrifice almost anything.

But even deep love and desperate need eventually die if the heart doesn’t get what it wants. And then the fever breaks and the obsession fades. The rational part of my brain then has more influence — and it whispers ever more loudly, “How could you possibly want someone who treated you like that?”

Eventually, even the heart has no answer for that question. The warm and fierce need fades. The ground splits between the heart and its loved one. The distance grows. And then, all that’s left is indifference.

I can look at my past relationships and see them more clearly now. I’m thankful I didn’t end up with some of the women. I’m thankful I didn’t have children with some. I’m thankful that I escaped certain types of dysfunction.

But I see the good along with the bad. In each of the women I’ve loved, I see the characteristics that attracted me and I know why I was so attracted to them. Even so, I can’t say what made my heart point to one among a group of attractive and intelligent women and say, “That one. She’s the one.”

When the obsession has faded and I can look at them soberly, I know what would have been best for me. Even removing the powerful need, I know which one would have worked. At least I think so. And I mourn the loving family which could have been mine.

When love ends, it’s easy to think, “You lost,” either about yourself or someone else. But the truth is that every time a mutual love dies, both people lose. No real love can be replaced. Its death means a permanent emotional and spiritual loss for both people.

What does my heart want now?

It wants what it’s always wanted. My heart wants a beautiful and brilliant woman who happens to adore me and who wants to build a partnership — and a family — with me. The rational part of me could list all the specific things which make me fall for her. The list is long and it’s predictable for me.

But the truth is that I never know what I want until I see it. It’s not just a beautiful face, of course. There’s just something intangible in a woman that my rational side can’t see. When that happens, I have no power to stop it.

Before I know it, my heart will again sense that intangible thing it needs in someone and it will say, “I want that one. I will do anything to win her heart.”

And once again, I will take a gamble on love, hoping this time that it’s returned and nurtured for good — that this will be the time when it will never make the slow and painful fade to indifference.

Share on Social Networks

When I first told you about the project that would become DavidMcElroy.TV, I thought it would launch by mid-May. Since today is the last day of May — and I’m still not close to launching a finished product — here’s a brief update. The graphic above is the latest rough mockup of the format, but it’s still subject to change. Even the logo isn’t yet set in stone. Motion graphics are really difficult when you’re starting from scratch. Sunday night, my camera stopped recording, so it has to be sent off for repair. I have an older camera that I’ll keep using for testing, but I can’t launch without the better one. The audio system developed a low buzz this weekend that has me puzzled. I’ll be taking all the equipment over to the home of a local audio engineer who’s volunteered to help me figure out what I’ve done wrong. On top of all that, my on-camera performance seems to get worse with each test I do. There are days when I think I’m crazy to be attempting this. And in truth, I probably am insane to do it, but being crazy has never stopped me before. I’m at least a month away from launch and it could be a few months. Thanks for being patient — and thanks for all the support and enthusiasm for the project that you’ve sent my way.

I received the first dose of a COVID-19 vaccine Monday — and I’m happy to report that I’m neither dead nor a zombie controlled by Bill Gates and Co. Eligibility was recently opened in Alabama to everyone who’s 16 or older, so I signed up for the Pfizer vaccine at a site run by a local university. I know this is a political issue for a lot of people, but that honestly baffles me. We can disagree about whether such a vaccine should be mandatory — which I’m against — but as a voluntary choice, it seems like an easy choice now that it’s been safely given to millions of people. Is it a perfect preventative? Of course not. But the decision seemed obvious to me when looking at the statistics and evidence. I haven’t had any of the side effects that some people have experienced, but that’s supposed to be more of an issue after the second dose, which I’ll get on May 3. In the meantime, I’ll let you know if I grow a third arm — or if the secret microchip kicks in and someone starts trying to control me remotely. All kidding aside, getting the vaccine seems like a rational voluntary choice to me.

I get a lot of email from readers. Some of it is fascinating and useful. Some of it is full of confessions that people want to share with a stranger. Some people write to ask advice. What’s really surprising, though, is the small percentage that seems to come from mentally unbalanced people. When I started using the metaphor about being an alien — the tagline at the top of each page here — it never occurred to me that I’d start hearing from people who took it seriously. But every few months, I get a strange email — such as the one above from a few months back — from someone who seems to think I’m claiming to be an actual alien. The first time it happened, I laughed. By the time it became a semi-regular thing, I was simply appalled. For the record, I can provide no proof that I’m an alien, because … well … it’s just a metaphor. I do feel like an alien among human beings, but as far as I know, I’m just as earthbound as you are. It’s just a metaphor. Honest. Or at least, that’s what my lizard-beast overlords told me to say.

After Tampa Bay, Fla., musician Colt Clark had all of his gigs canceled last year for months on end, the entire family felt trapped at home as most of the world was on quarantine lockdown. His wife, Aubree, had an idea that would let Colt make music and involve the whole family in making music videos to share with their friends and family on Facebook. Aubree is a photographer and homeschooling mom to a daughter and two sons, who range in age from 6 to 11. After their friends started asking to share the videos, they made the performances public — and a few of them are now on YouTube, where they go by the name of Colt Clark and the Quarantine Kids. The younger son, Becket, is on drums. The older boy, Cash, plays keyboards, strings and guitars. Dad supplies lead vocals and plays guitar, while 6-year-old Bellamy mostly dances but sometimes does backup vocals. There’s even a dog who makes an occasional appearance. The Clark family has just raised the bar for what I need to create with my future children. And best of all, they seem to be having a great time together. I hope they make you as happy as they make me.

Have you ever wondered how the social media world works for so-called “influencers”? I find it comical, so I thought I’d share with you. I frequently get offers such as what I’m about to describe. And if I’m getting such offers — as a relative nobody in the online world — you can only imagine what people with huge audiences are offered. It starts with an email appealing to my ego: “We came across your online presence and we LOVE your style. We’d love to have you as one of our Brand Ambassadors. To celebrate our new [Brand Name] collection, we want to give you a FREE Watch so you can post a picture of you wearing it and drive more exposure to our brand.” Did you hear that? They love me. They want me to be seen wearing their cheap $59 watch so other people will think, “If this amazing influencer wears that, surely I should buy one.” They even offer me commissions on the watches sold from people clicking from my site. So the next time you see some alleged “influencer” touting something online or on social media, remember that this is what it’s probably all about. It’s laughable.

Related Posts