There are few things in life that are common to enough people to be considered universal. Most occur early in everyone's childhood: learning to crawl, learning to speak, learning to walk. Perhaps the most obvious example of a universal right of passage, among the less childish of us, is love.
Almost everyone deals with it at some point or another in their life. Certainly most people can recall a moment in their life at which point they believed that they experienced their "first love." Believed, of course, because when you're at that point in life where you can say, "I've found my first love," I have to ask you, "On what can you base this judgment?" The mere phrase itself, "first love," implies no prior experience with it. And love isn't something that you can just look at in another person and say, "yeah... that's how I feel." So how does one know when they have truly met their first love? It is almost certain that, should such a revelation occur, it would be after the fact, years after the supposed first love arose, after the person has gained enough experience in life to be able to define "love."
But what of this first love? You tell me you've met your first love, and I've asked you why you think so. Can you not answer? Ah, you "feel something special" in your heart, is that it? Love is hard to define, you tell me, of course. Perhaps it is a different thing to everyone, eh? Would you like some coffee to go with that bullshit? You may "feel something special," young one, but those feelings are called hormones, and, in the strictest of definitions, they are independent of love. Try again.
While you stir that around a bit in your mind, let me ask you a question. Have you ever looked up at the stars and asked yourself, "Are we alone in the universe?" Of course you have; everyone has. Not a person is born that does not consider the odds that the human race is the only sentient race in this huge collection of matter and energy that is our universe. I am most certainly boring you with such things so commonly reflected upon. Forgive me, my naive friend.
Ah, you have the solution, you believe. And what, pray tell, is it? Oh, so now you would give me hypothetical situations to help you in your quest? Of course you'd take a bullet for her, of course you would. Hell, why not? Why don't you sacrifice your first-born son to your favorite god, while you're at it? It's easy to make claims about things that you're relatively certain that you won't have to prove. Try something more concrete, my friend, for subtleties like this will get you nowhere.
I see that you are still thinking, so I will ask you another question. As you gaze into a star-studded night, do you wonder about the probability that around a particular star upon which you gaze circles a planet? Yes, not all stars have planets to call their own. The odds, in fact, are very slim--comparable, shall we say, to the odds that one's "first love" is actually a love at all. Perhaps what you think is love is no more than the only passing affection that you've ever felt, with nothing else with which to compare it.
Another suggestion, you have? Lay it on me, friend. Ah yes, you wish every minute for this "first love" of yours to be at your side, to be present with you always and forever. You forgot to mention also how much your heart aches when this "first love" is away. Surely you mustn't forget that, for it is a key piece to your argument. And perhaps you are getting somewhere. It seems feasible to consider that an eternal longing for another could be classified as "love." But alas, even longings fade, and with time you will feel the constance with which your longing is accompanied, and soon your longing, too, shall fade. Certainly, you do not think so now, and of course you swear by it. But just you wait. Nothing good lasts forever, but on that pessimistic note, I must point out that there are plenty of good things to keep you occupied for many lifetimes.
You are becoming confused. Let me try to elucidate. Suppose that, during your scan of the heavens, in your unrealistic search for extraterrestrial life, you have found a star with the luck to possess a planetary body in its gravitational grasp. My, you've hit upon a gold mine now. Yes, this star of yours is truly special, methinks, but what of the planet? While there are indeed stars around whom planets happily revolve, what are the chances that this particular planet of yours has desirable characteristics to support life? Sadly, the odds are rather low that your planet has the necessary atmospheric blanket and the appropriate supply of water--the giver of life--to even support existing life, let alone create it. I would relate the odds to roughly that of your "first love" being a "true love."
Forgive me, I have been throwing about his concept of "true love" without properly defining it (in context, of course, for who am I to define love?) "True love," in its purest and simplest form, goes beyond any other feeling that you might even attempt to attach the label "love." "True love," as compared to, say, your "first love," could be the sun that more than overwhelms the much less significant light of the candle, a sad replacement that burns by your bed during the moments of the sun's absence. "True love" is eclipsed by no other feeling, known or unknown. "True love" can raise armies to die needlessly in an ongoing battle against nothing. "True love" can bridge the gap between heaven and earth, shattering the vivid distinction that the Bible draws between the two. "True love" is very likely a feeling that neither you nor any other living being has ever actually felt. "True love" may, in fact, be reserved only for fairy tales to entertain the young, for dreams to entertain the mind. I'd like to think, though, that it's there, that it's real, burning in the back of our minds, longing for a time when it can reign supreme over all things mortal and immortal.
Does this definition satisfy you? I judge by your gaping stare that you are more than satisfied, and in awe of these things that I have told you. No, perhaps your dropped jaw indicates a hopelessness at ever achieving this "true love" of which I speak so romantically and ideally. I will not deceive you; I doubt that you feel it now, and I doubt that you will ever feel it, just as I doubt that I or anyone else will truly feel it. But "true love" was never, in my humble opinion, meant to be felt.
Imagine living your life with only one purpose. Let us take, for example, the stereotypical (though unrealistic) goal of possessing "all the money in the world." Certainly you can recall desiring it at one point or another in your life; perhaps, when you were very young and could not fully grasp the meaning of that which you so naively claimed to desire. I highly recommend against this, but what if you chose to live your life solely for the purpose of obtaining all the money in the world. What would you do once if you ever reached this goal? Your life would be meaningless. Sure, you accomplished your goal in life, but alas, what do you do now? Define another goal to which to set your life's path? That is not an appropriate solution, for if there were another goal as prominent in your mind as all the money in the world, then you would have striven for the goal in the first place, forgetting about money entirely as an ends in itself.
Such is "true love," my friend. For some, "true love" is a lifetime goal for which they spend they entire life searching. This is not an obtainable goal, thank goodness, for many would be lost as soon as they found it, with no purpose or meaning in their life with which to enjoy their "true love." No, "true love" is not a goal that was meant to be reached, but a goal that was meant to be continually striven for. Seek further this "true love," for the closer you get, the happier you will be, but the infinite distance of "true love" assures that your happiness can increase to no end.
You look saddened by this concept, but let me elaborate on the phrase "true love," for I am most certain that I have given you the wrong impression. When I say that you may never experience "true love," I speak only of the idea itself. I make no claims, with that statement, about the person for whom you search, also called a "true love." I never meant to confuse you, of course; the English language is full of ambiguities like this.
Allow me to clarify: the person known as the "true love" is that person in the universe with whom you can most successfully approach the concept of "true love." Simply put, the "true love" is the one with whom you can experience the most love. This "true love" is, of course, unique to each individual, but to perhaps set your mind and your heart to a bit of ease, let me proclaim the possibility of finding the person known as the "true love." Do not get too optimistic, however, for note that I said possibility, not probability. By this I mean, of course, that while your "true love" may exist in the world for you to find, the odds of you ever even meeting this person are very low. How low, you ask? Good question.
Yes, the probability of your having found your "true love" can be roughly equivocated with your odds of choosing a planet capable of supporting life. And as low as these chances are, you have still not reached an appropriate end to this madness. Let us assume that you have--against all probability--discovered a planet capable of supporting life. Wow, you truly are an astronomer of vision. You may sign your name in the list of scientists that have discovered such planets. It is a short list indeed, but do not get cocky. That is, try not to imply to the tabloids that you have found life on other planets, for unfortunately for you in your search for intelligent life, the ability to support life is not enough to necessarily grant that life exists on that planet. Life, it seems, is far too complex for that. To develop, it requires very specific circumstances. It really depends on the planet you have chosen.
Life seems to be as picky, then, as perhaps may be your "true love." Yes, you may be lucky enough to find your "true love," I will grant you that. After all, somebody has to win the lottery eventually. But, like any planet that yearns for a life form to call its own, you can only hope that your "true love" has arrived at the perfect circumstances. Finding your "true love" can be a bad thing, you know, if your "true love" does not reciprocate your feelings. Alas, it is this case that would almost certainly drive someone to an untimely and purposeless death.
If you can find a star with a planet, I will applaud you. If you can find a planet that can support life, I will use you as a rabbit's foot. But, after finding this ideal planet upon which life can flourish in its grace and ingenuity, do not be surprised to find that life decided after all that it preferred another planet. It seems quite hopeless, when I put it this way, doesn't it? After all, there are trillions of stars, and billions of planets. Nature seems to have so many chances to create life, and we humans have only the handful of people with whom we develop real relationships. While nature has millions of chances, people must select only a handful of these planets and hope that one of them gives them the jackpot for which they strive. I wish you all the best luck in this endeavor, for the rewards far outweigh the effort.
As for me? Fuck the stars, I'm aiming for Earth herself.
Copyright © 2004-2009 by John Costigan. All rights reserved.