lessons of love

What is love at its core? 

This is a question people have been asking for centuries–and maybe the answer lies in what’s already been said. My class just started reading The Aeneid. Obviously, a very important book. My professor went on to explain the book goes through wars, travel, the usual spiel. But he also talked about Aeneas and Dido, he mentioned their love and how readers latched on to their story, basically turning them into a trope–just search up the opera version.

While reading about how Aeneas had to leave Dido, I was left confused. Dido fell in love with Aeneas, but all she was describing was something dark and horrifying, not at all the swooping excitement I think of as describing “love”. From the moment the narrative identifies her feeling as “love”,  she becomes unhappy, and her feelings become spoiled with something bordering malicious. Which makes me think, was Dido in love or in pain? Or are they the same thing? 

“Cursed love, you make us stoop to anything.” Dido says. Is that all what love is to a person? Something that blinds us from reality, makes us do things out of our character. When we are in love, do we lose control of ourselves? Dido’s love not only made her wish death upon her lover, but also drove her to suicide. To her, love is something that breaks the soul instead of nourishing it. Is love essentially “the first day of death, the first cause of ruin”? 

In a way, Dido is right. Being in love is giving wholly to a person, without a guarantee of getting it back. That is what imprisoned her: love became a force that only takes but never gives. And that can drive anyone crazy. 

“Aeneas…haunted her thoughts. His face and words lodged in her heart. Love let her find no rest in sleep” Dido continues.

Love is an ominous thing. It exposes a different part of ourselves, parts we may not want to see. But does this archeological excavation into ourselves reveal who we truly are, or just who we become when we are in love with another person? In The Aeneid, we see that love turns us rotten and broken, something needing to be freed. Love cages Dido and essentially leads to her demise. She couldn’t live with a broken heart, so she couldn’t live at all. 

In a way, love is pain. You are putting your emotions at risk for another person. Of course, there are great parts to being in love. But, it seems, you are always teetering on the edge of a cliff. Never knowing when you might fall, or when the other person may let go.