Single White Nerd: Love Is Stupid

Before you get all indignant or write that morsel off as the Valentine’s Day rantings of a bitter little nerd, consider:  How many stupid things have you done for love?  I’ve done plenty.

Flinging myself off a perfectly good raft into the churning rapids of the Grand Canyon.
Jumping out of a perfectly good airplane.
Moving across the country without any money or plan.
Battling six ninjas while blindfolded on a thin plank over a pit of vipers.

Maybe not that last one.  But I probably would if the opportunity presented itself.  The point here is that love decimates good judgement and makes us do stupid things.  To graph that out:

LOVE ———-> STUPIDITY(and ninjas)

But wait, there’s more!  Love doesn’t just drive us to acts of reckless idiocy, it also, by some sort of dark alchemy, takes root in the deep recesses of our souls and turns us into blithering morons.  For example:

Last week I had dinner with a friend whom I’ve known for over 20 years.  He’s a smart guy.  Went to one of those fancy schools on the East Coast, produces moving picture shows, knows all sorts of stuff about all sorts of things.  We had a wide ranging discussion about Shakespeare, politics, Egypt and, inevitably, the conversation turned to love.  (Note to the ladies:  Dudes talk about love, too)

He asked about my love life.  I hemmed, hawed, deflected and managed not to break down in tears.  Then I asked him about his.  He got this big, ridiculous smile on his face and started talking.

I don’t know, man.  It’s hard.  Like, I was at this Super Bowl party and it just kind of worked out that I sat next to a girl and we were talking.  And . . . I mean.  Amazing conversation.  She blogs about pastries and I love pastries.  I had pictures of pastries on my phone, and I showed her those pictures.  She started touching my arm.  We just connected, you know.  We talked about more than pastries, of course.  But I really felt like my best self around her.  And I think she felt the same way.

He went on for about five minutes about the girl.  And her hair.  And their shared passion for baked goods.  He glowed as he babbled.  Finally, he got to the end of his story.

But she’s . . . you know . . . engaged.  Huge rock.  But I think I gave her a moment of doubt.  And I wanted to ask her if she’d reconsider getting married.  Because it could be, I could tell, just this incredible chance.  I mean, I didn’t.  But…

Oh wow.  To sum up:

Love + Otherwise Intelligent Person = Blithering Moron Who Considers Trying to Break Up A Relationship On The Basis of Pastries.

I wanted to slap some sense into my friend, tell him to smarten up.  But I knew it wouldn’t work.  I know what it is to sit across from someone and start to fall, to lose control.  The sense that fate is at work.  Every little coincidence takes on great significance and the world becomes a vast web that has worked to create this moment.  The universe contracts to include just two people, nothing else matters.  Except, apparently, pastries.

Ugh.  Love is so stupid.  It’s stupid to behave recklessly, to put your faith so completely in another person, to take a irrational leap into an abyss where the normal rules of conduct don’t apply.  Buoyed by moronic love, you can float in defiance of the basic laws of physics (sometimes literally if you follow love out the door of an airplane) and live in the belief that all things are possible.  Who, I ask you, would want THAT?!  Ick.

Happy Valentine’s Day, you reckless, love struck idiots.