Phenomenology of Love
what being in love feels like for me
Falling in love is a fascinating time. In my experience, it is one of the most—if not the most—intensely heightened states possible. It also tends to linger for an unusually long time relative to other strong emotional states.
I’ve found in conversations with others that there is some variance in how we each experience this state.
I thought it would be interesting, in part as an exercise for myself, to list out all of my key components of being in love.
Everything the other person does feels special. The things they choose to wear, what they like to eat, their strange vocal tics—all of it feels both endearing and right. Very silly things, like a song they often play in the car, can feel somehow perfect and full of meaning.
There is a sense of shared identity. Being in love, at least for me, can feel like merging with another person. While we maintain a sense of individuality inside the relationship, it feels as though our interface with the world has become one unit. As a couple, we like certain things, stand for certain things, judge certain people. Luckily, we generally fall in love with people who share our values, preferences, and general taste, so this tends to feel pretty natural. While there are still differences and arguments within the relationship, they feel like negotiations for the broader egregore.
Moments that make you say “god, I love you.” I sometimes find myself saying this to people platonically after they do something unusually thoughtful, funny, or otherwise good. Every time I fall in love, I find myself having a similar sentiment frequently. It isn’t necessarily “wow, I feel so much deep romantic love towards you”—rather, a series of moments in which I feel passing, casual admiration and gratitude for them.
I want to experience everything with them. Early into falling in love, I find myself frequently imagining a whole range of experiences I could share with them. What would a coworking session on a random Tuesday feel like? What would an LSD trip together be like? What would it be like to visit my old elementary school with them? These fantasies seem to enter my mind at all hours, almost entirely outside of my control.
Doing things for them feels natural. When I am in love, I start to fantasize about all of the helpful things I could do for my partner. I imagine waking them up to pancakes, or cleaning their room while they’re at work. I basically never think twice about doing something nice for them.
Everything feels floaty. I don’t really know how to put what I mean by this into words, and yet it feels like the most important bit. Everything carries a faint glow of magic. Every single day with them is completely enchanted. Even bad experiences can feel synchronous.
I forget who said this to me, but someone once told me that perhaps we see people with the greatest clarity while in love with them. I don't really know what that means, but there's something I like about it. We spend so little time deeply examining the people around us that I would guess any strong emotional state directed at someone would reveal something both interesting and clarifying. In that sense, I think there’s something true when people say that there’s a thin line between love and hate. While the valence is flipped, which honestly does feel pretty load-bearing—the experience of meticulously examining another person, completely effortlessly (it is usually difficult to stop yourself from doing it), all through an extremely powerful emotional lens, it’s just really quite something.