Falling In, Falling Out, and Falling Through Love

I have been married for sixty-one-derful years. I married at nineteen and I think I was initially in love with the idea of being in love. Fortunately, I lucked out and married a good man I’ve come to appreciate more and more every day of my life. Being elderly, we now experience the physical challenges of being old. Recently, my husband had a stroke and though his recovery has been better than it might have been ten years ago and is ongoing, the wide range of that experience has been eye-opening. I didn’t have a stroke, but I am likewise recovering, though it is from a different perspective.

One of the things that has happened to me is I’ve had time to dissect the whole idea of love and I’d like to share some important things I have learned.

Falling in love is a biochemical rave. It’s a physiological rollercoaster. It’s thrilling, chaotic, and all-consuming.

Conversely, I’ve witnessed people experience the contrasting plummet of falling out of love, and as far as I can tell, it’s like the lights turning on after the party and you’re left with the mess, the silence, and the need to clean up.

I’ve been walking through the gardens of love, not just admiring the flowers, but digging into the soil, learning its seasons, and marveling at its mysteries. My first declaration is – “Love is not a destination, it’s a dynamic, ever-changing journey. Love can’t be fully defined. It’s not something you check off a list. Oh, I’m in love! Instead, it’s a fluid, evolving force that deepens, wanes, surges, and reshapes. And what’s magical is that it can exist in infinite forms—romantic, familial, platonic—each with its rhythm and rules.

Love should be about commitment to the process rather than a static feeling. Feelings are fickle and fleeting. They come and go like waves, but commitment is the sturdy vessel that carries you through calm seas and storms alike. By committing to the progression of love, you’re choosing to lean into the mystery rather than demand certainty from it. Keep that phrase in mind – The Progression of Love.

Love is a mystery because it refuses to be pinned down. It defies logic. It’s why you can feel deeply for someone even when they frustrate you. It’s why you can love someone differently at 25 than you do at 75. It’s why love doesn’t always feel “fair” or predictable. It has its agenda and its seasons.

Love evolves because we evolve. Who I was on my wedding day at the age of nineteen is not who I am now at the age of eighty-one. The love I share with my husband isn’t the same as it was then. It’s richer, more complex, maybe even more mysterious. The same goes for the love I feel towards my children, friends, or family. It’s a living thing and it requires patience and curiosity.

Let’s explore this biochemical symphony where the body and brain go into overdrive. You meet someone and spend quality time together and things are going very well. The brain’s reward system lights up like fireworks. Dopamine, the “feel-good” neurotransmitter, floods your system, making you feel euphoric, energized, and intensely focused on the person. I understand it’s similar to the high from addictive substances. Love is intoxicating.

Then there is something called Oxytocin, often called the “cuddle hormone.” It’s released during bonding activities like hugging, kissing, and even deep conversations. Vasopressin is another hormone that is released and plays a role in creating long-term attachment. It reinforces a sense of connection and trust.

In the early stages of a relationship, your body releases adrenaline and cortisol, the stress hormones. This is why your heart races, your palms sweat, and you might feel butterflies in your stomach when you’re around the person.

Serotonin levels drop, which may explain why people in love can become obsessive, constantly thinking about their partner. It’s as if your brain prioritizes the new love over everything else.

The brain changes. The amygdala is the part of the brain related to memory, emotions, and smell. It has a role in anxiety which may explain why love makes people bold or impulsive.

The prefrontal cortex of the brain is responsible for rational thinking. It becomes quiet so you’re more inclined to overlook flaws or risks.

So, you’re in love and life is wonderful. You’re living the good life.

Now, let’s break down the biochemical crash of falling out of love.  

When love fades, the body essentially goes through withdrawal. As the thrill and novelty wear off, dopamine levels drop. That euphoric high is replaced with a sense of normalcy—or even emptiness. If that bond you’ve made weakens due to conflict, betrayal, or emotional drift, oxytocin and vasopressin levels decrease. This can make you feel less connected and more detached from your partner. Breakups or falling out of love can be stressful, triggering cortisol. This is why heartbreak often feels physically painful—your body is in a state of heightened stress. The brain, accustomed to the dopamine highs of love, now feels the void. This can lead to feelings of sadness, irritability, and even physical symptoms like fatigue or appetite changes. The prefrontal cortex re-engages, bringing rationality back into focus. You start noticing flaws or incompatibilities that were previously ignored. The brain processes the loss of love similarly to grieving a death. This is known as neuroplasticity which is the brain’s ability to change and adapt due to experience. It involves the growth and reorganization of neural networks, allowing the brain to function differently from how it previously did. This capacity for change can occur due to learning, brain damage, or other factors.

As I said at the start, I’ve been married for sixty-one years and I’ve decided that the more I experience love, the more mysterious it becomes and that is true in any relationship I have whether it’s my husband or my children or friends or family members.

We have four children. Our first two were adopted and the last two were biological. When we got our first little boy, he was the center of our universe. We couldn’t do enough for him and we fell completely in love with him. Then we got our second child, also a beautiful little boy. I gave myself a good talking to and determined that I would have to be very careful and not show favoritism in any way because every child needs to be loved. From the moment that child was placed in my arms, I was in love and it’s amazing but it took nothing from our first child. Then we found ourselves making room for our third child and because he was biologically ours, I worried I would feel differently. But I didn’t, there was more love and I marveled at that. It required no effort, it felt natural and didn’t feel any different nor was it any more difficult than what I felt for our two older children. Then, came our fourth child, a precious little girl. Now, our boys are all adults and as such, in a good-natured way, claim she was a favorite. I neither confirm nor deny. I will say that love is natural, it’s beautiful and it’s bountiful.  

This is what I’ve come to know about love. Firstly, it does not have a cap. Secondly, it is ethereal. Thirdly, it is unmeasurable. Fourth, it is not a prerequisite for marriage.  Rather, the question should be, am I committed to discovering and experiencing the progression and evolution of love with a particular person?

I maintain that marriage is a container where love can grow, where there is room to change, and where there is space to surprise us. It’s not about locking in a feeling, but about embracing the unknown together.