Love Is A Drug, And The Withdrawals Are No Joke

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Love is a drug. There’s a great high when you find it, and this huge withdrawal when it goes away. Whether the high lasts one night, one week, or several years, the it’s intoxicating. It’s the kind of feeling that makes you roll down your windows and crank the music up loud because every song that comes on the radio is amazing.

Sadly, that feeling can just as easily be ripped away from you. He hasn’t texted since we met? Withdrawals. We stopped talking after our second date? Withdrawals. You’d think we’d become desensitized to that high in order to protect ourselves from the withdrawal, yet we keep on coming back for more. Over and over again, we take the hit of love, even though withdrawal looms around the corner.

[Related Post – Love is a Drug: Losing Myself to Addiction]

Despite the references above, I have never taken drugs of any sort, but I read an article today about the affects of sugar addiction and the parallels were remarkably similar to the highs and lows of drug use… and love. It feels outstanding when you take that first bite of the cupcake and have your first flirtation. Likewise, it feels downright awful when you take sugar out of your diet and love out of your heart.

I’ve noticed this same up and down feeling this year with the guys I’ve dated. I’ll meet a guy and think, “Oh, he’s so wonderful! He’s different than any other guy I’ve ever met. How much would I love being a firefighter’s wife?!” The birds are singing and the best music ever is blaring and my windows are down. Then it ends abruptly.

Withdrawal.

Two weeks later, a new guy comes around. “Oh, he’s so wonderful. He’s different than any other guy I’ve ever met! How much would I love being a musician’s wife?!” The birds are singing and the best music ever is blaring with the windows down. Then he stops calling.

Withdrawal.

A month later, a new guy comes around. “Oh, he’s so wonderful. He’s different than any other guy I’ve ever met. How much would I love being an artist’s wife?!” The birds are singing and the best music ever is blaring with the windows down. Then he dumps you.

Withdrawal.

Take the hit of love once, and you can’t stop. (I call this the Pringles Effect). That high feels so good and it’s addictive – it’s why we keep putting ourselves through shitty dates, inappropriate Tinder conversations, and heartbreak.

Love is a drug, and it just feels so damn good. When it’s good, those withdrawal symptoms are a distant shadow. Maybe our hearts are made of armor that can get chinks but don’t break, or maybe the desire for full and complete mind-blowingly good love is so much greater than the obstacles we face along the way, that we persevere. We keep on going despite the nausea, shakes, and the tears.

If love is a drug, give me another hit.

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