serial monogamy

While I have been made fun of as a relationship addict before, I hadn't heard the term "serial monogamist" in any academic setting until last week. I was pretty sure it was just the kind label my friends had come up with for the vastly insecure and ridiculously needy person I can be to try and make me feel like my craziness had some legitimacy.
Turns out it does.
And turns out I'm not crazy.
At least not this time.
According to my biological anthropology professor, the entire human race is genetically built as an army of serial monogamists, jumping from one serious, long-term partner to the next, rarely settling with one person for life. While we psychologically and emotionally embark in the world to find that soulmate, biologically, we want to reproduce. So we're constantly at war with our natural instinct.
No wonder the world can be such a miserable place.

How is it that we continue to love in light of the idea that we are built to move on from it?

Every time we love, we hope it's our last. No one enters into a relationship of any kind thinking, "You know, this will end, and probably not so well." You don't buy a Rolls Royce with the intent, or even the thought, to crash it. In fact, you probably consider yourself such a great driver, or the car itself to be so magnificent, that it is almost impossible for it to be wrecked in any manner. Because you take such good care of it, wax it everyday, keep it locked up in a temperature-controlled garage, somehow that negates anything bad happening to it. We're in denial from the beginning, unreasonably optimistic for our own happiness, or else it'd be impossible to start if we knew the outcome would be terrible. In reality, the best outcome we can hope for in a relationship is that one person in it dies; the car just stops working. Or I guess if you want to cite the incredibly realistic film "The Notebook", then the best outcome we can hope for is to die simultaneously. And frankly, when I'm getting off the phone with someone I love, "Hope you die when I do!" doesn't seem to be the kind of romantic, endearing message I want to send.

By evolving to be unrealistically optimistic, we cope with the fact that all good things come to an end, and badly. By that I mean, we never want good things to end, so when they do, it's bad simply because it's over, and anything on top of this that goes wrong just adds to it. Our unrealistic expectations for our own happiness creates a blind spot. It's not huge, just enough to keep us somewhat ignorant of the tragedies in life. For example, if I tell you right now that in 500 years, everyone and everything you love will be dead and gone, your mind immediately discards that idea. Perhaps you're even angry with me for even mentioning it, for burdening you with the thought. "Why be so pessimistic? Don't focus on the future, live in the present."

Let's be real here: if I told you that you were going to die in 3 hours, and I knew it for sure, you would not be enjoying the moment. You'd run around calling every person you know to tell them whatever you really think of them, you'd be eating an entire box of donuts and having as much sex as physically possible. Think of the lottery, or gambling. Upfront, when we buy the ticket, they tell us that it's nearly impossible to win, that the odds are stacked against you, and yet, against all rationality and logical thought, we play. "Someone has to win, right? Why can't it be me?" As you quickly make up a bunch of reasons why you above anyone else should win this complete crapshoot, you're ignoring the fact that you and Joe the Plumber have exactly the same statistical chance of winning.

Crank up the intelligence, would be the first solution that comes to mind with all of this. Be more aware of the consequences of our actions and our environment. But without the blind spot, you've got a dying breed of humans drunk and stoned out of their minds, lying on the floor watching Dawson's Creek reruns and trying to forget everything awful about their existence, which would be impossible given that they have no filter. It's called depression. You would never start out in a relationship if the depressing end was staring you straight in the face. Thus, we'd never reproduce. Voila. Extinction. It's the process of evolution that's made us slightly stupid with optimism, in order to keep the race alive.

But remove yourself for a moment. A relationship ending cannot be considered bad (remember my earlier definition: anything good that ends ends badly simply because we do not want it to end so we're not getting what we want), it's just there. Everything ends. Everyone dies. And everyone will be alone when that happens. So let's know that somewhere in the back of our minds. Be prepared. Think about loss not just when it's happening, so it doesn't seem like then end of our lives when it strikes. Let's not let ourselves be crushed by the weight of loss. We will get up, and do it again. Not necessarily because we want to, but because we're built to keep looking, keep hoping, keep searching, and to keep going. Simply by being human, we are much stronger than we let ourselves be.

And on that warm and fuzzy feel good note, I bid you all goodnig....good morning.