I knew my husband was The One the very night I met him. In
fact, I remember telling my best friend, "I'm going to marry him." She
looked at me as if I'd lost my mind and reminded me that I had known him a
total of three hours. I was as surprised by my proclamation as she was hearing
it. Oh, I should probably reveal that I was fifteen years old at the time. Crazy,
I know, and I am happy to report that he and I have been together for thirty-nine
years, married for thirty-six.
How did I know so emphatically that I was in love? I have
often wondered. Love is an amazing, almost magical, human emotion. For me, love
arrived like a flash of heat lightning on a summer evening. That's called love
at first sight. For others, love comes more slowly, like the changing of
seasons. No matter how or when it strikes, love has been bringing people
together from the beginning of human existence.
So how does love work? Does the emotion start in the heart
or the head?
I'm not talking about mere physical attraction. That's lust—a
completely different topic. I'm talking about the mutual emotion between two
people that urges them to form a lasting bond, which compels them to build a
life together.
Some people might say love starts as a chemical reaction
sparked by synaptic connections in the brain. It might sound unromantic, but
science has proven that pheromones are involved, as well as visual responses,
neurotransmissions of dopamine and serotonin, and releases of hormones, just to
name a few ways the subconscious influences who makes us fall head over heels.
Despite all the scientific jargon, I like to think my heart
had something to do with my love connection. Yes, the night I met my husband
all those years ago, he made me feel attractive. The look in his blue eyes told
me he thought I was pretty. The undivided attention he showered on me showed
that he found me interesting, and he made me think. The smile on his lips and
the warmth of his hand in mine as we talked made me feel desired. But there was
much more to it than that. He stirred my curiosity, my compassion. He was kind
and considerate. In the three hours we sat together, he proved that he was very
intelligent, he made me laugh, and he made me feel safe in a way no one else
ever had. In other words, he touched my heart, and he continues to pull at my
heartstrings every single day.
So what do you think? Does love come from the heart, or from
the brain?
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