Name: The Mark of True Love...
Uploaded: 2025-07-17T07:56:54.000Z
Duration: 6 min 25 s
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We humans have an immense appetite for complicated things, neuroscience, astrophysics and molecular biology of course, but also barely decipherable books, abstract works of art and avant-garde pieces of theatre without plot or character, all of which perhaps evoke the primordial puzzles of the universe and our own always ineffable existence within it. But our veneration for complexity can reach a most painful, time-consuming and futile zenith in one area in particular – relationships. It's here that we find otherwise discerning and hard-headed people exhibiting extreme patience, often lasting over a succession of tormented years, for what we can call complicated situations. The complexities may arise from some of the following dynamics. A beloved partner who wants to commit and surely will one day but not quite yet on account of this or that factor or not entirely because of certain psychological fears or not conclusively or at least not without certain important caveats. They may need space, freedom or what they call a chance to explore though quite what was still not wholly clear, though we have asked them on many occasions. Then a partner with whom there are a lot of misunderstandings, around whom words often lose their standard meanings, around whom we may have to spend hours untangling what was truly meant and around whom gestures or deeds that we previously thought uncontentious suddenly become the occasion for major surprising aggravations. Or a partner who in principle is there for us and in theory loves us very very much but in actuality – like last week and the week before that – is constantly remarkably busy, unable to respond to our texts, out with their compelling friends or concentrated on their always extremely demanding job. Or a partner with whom we sit up late at night on many occasions with a pad and paper to hand attempting to determine where the issues are coming from, what is at play and how things might be handled before, baffled and upset, we finally have to retreat to bed a little after 1am feeling fragile and tearful.

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Or a partner whom we find ourselves discussing at almost every turn with our close friends and our therapist, speculating with concentrated energy on what drives them, who they might really be, why they do what they do, how their childhood could have affected them, what their attachment style is, what their most recent antic might truly mean, all the while peering at them as if they were a mysterious nebulae in an outer galaxy whose workings would concentrate the minds of the most erudite and sophisticated astronomers. Or a partner who leaves us wondering whether we are not fundamentally daft and broken and poring over all that we may have done wrong without meaning to. Have we offended them? Are we too demanding? Have we exhibited too little patience for their ways of thinking? Perhaps as they have told us we want too much?

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Maybe – as they hint – we are being unreasonable? We may never have felt more odd or more damaged to ourselves than around this special target of our affection. All of this, society sometimes seems to tell us, can just be what love is. No relationship is easy. No human is simple.

Everything needs hard work. It is precisely because all this is so often very true that we can admit to notice when, on other occasions, it has in any way ceased to be so. When certain sensible mantras about effort have subtly and dangerously turned into excuses for patience with people entirely unsuited to the business of mutual love.

To dampen some of our risky enthusiasm for emotional complexity, we might remind ourselves of a broad principle operating in relationships that we can term grandly the rule of simplicity.

This rule states that in two people who are adequately mature, who have what it takes to function emotionally, who have feasible propositions, love will, overall, taken with perspective, be simple. Yes, there will be certain difficult conversations to be had every now and then, a few tricky moments and a constant requirement for practical effort.

But, in essence, there will be a simplicity at play because of a few fundamentals at the heart of the union. They know how to – and want to – love us. And we know how to – and want to – love them. That's why they will pretty much always show up on time, answer text messages promptly, communicate clearly, be proud of us, tell their friends about us and leave us feeling wanted, calm, sure of our position and able to go to bed – without checking our phones once more at a sensible hour. Anything less is – we might generalise – a strong indication of something else. Quite what may be a matter for speculation lasting several centuries. It could be a childhood trauma, a mental condition, a consequence of our own misfounded appetites or the result of a tricky bond with a mother or father.

But maybe we don't in the end need to know precisely what's at work. Maybe we can, to follow the rule of simplicity, just read the complexity as an indication that we just shouldn't be here. It might be time to stop glorifying questions.

Where were they? What do they mean? When will they call? If they love us, we will know it.

If they want to be there, they will show up. There is only so complicated a relationship ever needs to be. When it's viable, love is, all told, fairly obvious and very easy.

If we find ourselves in a union in which we're up all night writing journal entries or peering through a telescope at the latest ambiguous signal, it might be nothing more or less than proof that we have outrun the patience that we should fairly be exhibiting towards any human being. Or, to follow our rule of simplicity and to speak more directly, we may just need to get out now.