Do human relationships aim for love?
It is a term most widely consumed in popular culture, yet its content is boundless. Some see it as a process, others as a result. I’ve come to wonder why we demand this emotion from our parents, partners, same-sex friends, and others.

I listen intently to the various illusions humans lean on in their infinite anxiety. These illusions arise from the fear of disconnection. From the moment we parted ways with nature, we became fragile, insecure beings, endlessly searching for complete answers. From the warmth of the womb, where we were entirely protected and cared for by our mother, we are cast into the world the moment we are born. From the very beginning, from our birth, we were part of something, yet we are torn apart and made separate. This urge to avoid separation drives us to seek others, to observe them.

We try to comprehend and penetrate everything with a clear intent—things we can touch, tear apart, and objects and other humans that we see as subjects to understand. (If a person could be fully understood like an object, would we have loved them? In the end, humans cannot live without others, and perhaps it is this subtle frustration and distance from understanding that lies at the root of love.)

We continue to seek something to hold ourselves, something permanently connected to us. But, in reality, the result is often nothing, and the relationships are endless convergences. Still, we dedicate our lives to them. Ultimately, the repeated longing leaves its mark, and people live believing that they have found a clear answer to the questions they follow. The contradictions I feel in the commonly used word "love" lead me to ask fundamental questions, exposing the shallow results brought about by these contradictions.

In the inevitability of union, we are nothing but the quantities of pathetic desires for difference. Humans are like sheep—weak, repetitive, emitting small sound waves, and traveling in herds. In the desperate urge not to be separated, we come to understand how powerful the fear of being only slightly apart from the crowd can be. And so, people do not merely conform out of compulsion but desire to be unified, beyond just the pressure of conformity. Most people are unaware of their desire for unity. They follow their own preferences and thoughts, thinking of themselves as individualists, as though their conclusions have been reached independently. They live in the illusion that it is merely coincidence that their views align with most others—a faint sense of comfort. The desire to feel unique is satisfied by the smallest of differences: a large handbag, the color of room curtains, a bank teller’s nametag, the initials on a sweater, and so on.

All the civilizations and advancements humanity has achieved have given us the power to dominate a planet, but their size and depth sometimes swallow us in return. Yet, for all of this, it is profound that humans, more than any other animal, have such a strong desire and fear of not being separated from others. Perhaps this constant, endless striving for answers in the face of love, a love whose true answer we may never know, is the final grace left for us by God as humans. The emotion we call love may not be a privilege unique to humanity, but a proof of our weakness born from the limitations of being human.