Published 2013-02-13T02:15:00Z”/>
Kevin Crittenden
Valentine’s Day is stuck in a tie of love, hate and stupid.
People in relationships seem to love it, and those who aren’t probably think it’s a stupid holiday, if they don’t just flat-out hate it altogether.
Why all of the hate on a day devoted to love? Part of the reason is that relationship chemistry is rare.
It’s not love at first sight, per se, but rather an instant connection mutually felt.
I’m not talking about baseline physical attraction, the biological spark that makes Chico a good place for one-nighters and casual boning. Granted, part of it is looks, but the other part is not so easily explained.
What is it?
It’s that poignant knowing that you can feel, not just in your loins, but in your brain.
To experience chemistry is to partake in a lucid flow of personalities. A well of relational potential is tapped, and it is deep and pure. But, like fun, it does not have a shelf life. It can’t be stored or sold.
Chemistry is a sort of mystery. It certainly exists – it’s tangible and observable, if not measurable. Bill Murray and Scarlett Johansson have it on display in “Lost in Translation.”
It seems to involve conversational connection, a proclivity to “shoot the bull,” not to tiptoe with words like careful children who know too many rules. People with good chemistry become friends because they aren’t afraid to step on each other’s toes.
I say the problem with Valentine’s Day is that chemistry isn’t for sale.
Yet consumer culture corrals shoppers into purchasing chocolates and flowers as a means of creating connections among the lonely, jaded masses.
Cards and candies with messages like “Be Mine” or “I’m Yours” solderize the notion of ownership in the minds of all of us who are living out an ephemeral existence.
Some hopeful part of every person’s consciousness saves a space for chemistry to kindle itself into a meaningful relationship. But it’s not hiding inside of a heart-shaped box.
Out of 100 acquaintances, there’s someone whose name you don’t want to forget, whose expressive wavelength matches your own. Suddenly, there is nothing to prove – not with chalky candy or overpriced flowers.
If I were an advice columnist, I would suggest putting away two things in particular on Feb. 14 – your money and your concern for what the day may or may not bring.
Relax and speak your mind. Things will unfold as they may.
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<strong>Kevin Crittenden can be reached at </strong><a href=”mailto:[email protected]”><em>[email protected]</em></a>
