Superfluous, or a necessary flavor?

"when i say you sucked my brain out
the english translation
is i am in love with you"
- Ani Difranco, Dialate

In a most recent discussion re: crushes with a dear pal, the question was posed: So, really, how much of your brain power was spent thinking about this person all day?

The answer was scary.

In a very recent movie I watched but can't remember (Dan in Real Life or Charlie Bartlett, maybe?) one of the lines went something like this: "You know that if you think about someone for a total of 20 minutes a day you have a crush on them?" I was sheepishly self conscious after hearing that line echoed from the silver screen, namely because I've blown that number out of the water a few times on fantastic people who barely knew me.

Besides the fact that it's nice to have lovely distractions about a person that may or may not know that you exist, something so removed from reality that it makes your heart flutter with that sweet nectar that feeds the love centers in your brain, why do some of us feel like we need another to the point that it occupies that much brain power?

"If I had a nickel for every time I thought of you..."

In biology courses in undergrad, we learned that the males are dispensable. It only takes one well equipped dude to do the necessary deed with a handful of females to propagate the species. Of course, that's just purely procreation. So what about the recreation part makes this interplay of desire so fixated and paramount? Are we really nothing more than genetically programmed hormones?

In the beginning (and end) of the movie-musical Hedwig and the Angry Inch (highly recommended), there's a tale of a circle that's cut in two and is constantly searching for it's other half. Hedwig has a musical soliloquy at one point that goes like this:

"It is clear that I must find my other half. But is it a he or a she? What does this person look like? Identical to me? Or somehow complimentary? Does my other half have what I don't? Did he get the looks? The luck? The love? Were we really separated forcibly or did he just run off with the good stuff? Or did I? Will this person embarrass me? What about sex? Is that how we put ourselves back together again? Or can two people actually become one again?"

Getting back to the most recent conversation with the dear pal that brought up this blogoriffic rumble-tumble: the other question posed was "What would it take for us to NOT have a desire to find another, or be preoccupied with another? I mean, we're fine alone, etc., but why - what is this...need? Especially, when (as we are well aware) relationships take work and are not easy and no one's perfect and people change and for some reason even if there is enough to build a relationship on it still doesn't always work out, and some of us can't stop thinking about guys who are assholes and have done us wrong, so wrong... [etc. etc. etc.]."

My mind searched the Sex & the City episode catalog with no recollection of this specific question, which seemed unlikely, and (note to self) required further research. But, on this topic: consider for a moment the Carrie and Big plot. In the meantime, it would be nice to have an 'off' switch for those thoughts that play in loops till it's madness in your head.

Is this life ever without a love story? Is bittersweet always the flavor? Desire - Eros - is a verb. It moves. It never stops, and there we are in it's wake.