F. Scott Fitzgerald wrote that “There are all kinds of love in this world, but never the same love twice.” Simply put, human connections vary with every different relationship. You will never have an identical connection with one partner as you will have with the next.
But do we actually have the same love/connection with the same person?
The already established connection is characterised by constant change and perpetual threats of dissolution. We’re the most adaptive species; which means in every moment we connect the stability is undermined by our own naturally, autonomously, evolving state; and theirs.
Why do we search, so thoroughly, in hopes to find someone that can offer us the same peace we require? Or are we masochists and narcissists who are aware of how futile searching for a connection is, but for some reason enjoy the unfulfilled search? Or is it because we value the rarity and ineffable profoundness of the moment we connect to another person regardless of its nature?
Is that moment so intoxicating that it haunts, inspires and fuels us for more, greater, even deeper connections, setting an unattainable ideal?
Perhaps those moments of connection, whether it’s something as innocuous as being the only two people who laugh at a joke, almost in unison, as though your thoughts were shared through some strange telekinetic experience or something much deeper and far more enigmatic, maybe it’s just a silver lining to all the other bullshit we have to deal with, maybe we don’t try and turn it into something tangible, maybe we just let it crash through us and wait for the next wave to hit?