Wouldn’t it be amazing if we knew the direction of our lives? That is to say, if the hassle of knowing what one would study in university, where one would work, live, travel and whom we will love. At the present intersection of my traffic jammed life, I would offer much to know the answers to any one of these questions. The other day, I watched a film, whose trailer is below, titled, “Timer.”

Oona, the main character in the movie, is the type of person who wants everything planned in her life; her focus is narrow and anything or anyone not directly associated with her plan is quickly eschewed.

As the topic of this movie is love and finding one’s soulmate, which is eased with the timer, I can’t help but focus on the real life application. How many people date with the initial onset of, “Is this person my soulmate?” or “Is this just a fling?” My response to this is somewhat paradoxical – surely not every interest one has would result or even be a runner up for a soulmate, but shouldn’t it? I’ll agree partly with Oona in that why invest time in someone who isn’t for you?

Women more than men tend to think along these lines, that is, a woman’s goal tends to gravitate more toward the homemaking wheres as a man’s intentions may be a little broader albeit homemaking is included. Now, since I am neither a woman nor a man dating a woman, I can only speak on behalf of men, and more narrowly, gay men. Among these, I think there are two (basic) types: the nomads and the settlers. For the nomads, the quest for homemaking is mobile and within his self and his company but not necessarily in cohabitant sense; the settlers, on the other hand, find the home with another person, they are searching for their other half. Both types, however, still have a quest for love. Their methods are different just as their interpretation and expectations of it differ.

At one point of the movie, Oona is challenged about her ability to love someone without a timer. She is told, “It’s not that I can’t give you a gaurantee – it’s that you can’t give me one.” The gaurantees here differ: one is by an emotive promise and the other is through science.

So, if love is measurable by means of science, where does emotion factor? Expounding further on this thought, is love emotion or a series of chemicals – or both?

Another question postered in the film, was do we fall in love once or does it [can it] happen multiple times? Think for a moment on the nostalgic phrase, “My first love…” The simple linguistic presentation leads to a series of loves or lovers; there is a assumption being made that if you have one love another or others will follow. The film treats this question well: I won’t go into how, but it’s worth the watching to know.

Before I go on with “My first love” and exploring it in terms of myself, I think understanding love is important. It’s always of interest to me how others view love. I have highlighted and used repetitiously a quote from Wally Lamb in his book She’s come undone, where the main character in the book, Delores Prices, says,”He’s splitting me open, I thought. He’ll break me and then I’ll die.” Love or the moment preceeding the actualization of it nearly mimics the pain experienced by a bud before it blossoms; the fear is losing part of one’s self to another regardless of knowing of the reciprocation. As Zora Neale Hurston believes, “Love makes your soul crawl out from its hiding place.” It makes people do things in a bold manner and with superhero gusto one otherwise may not have.

Now, I ask myself, “Have I been in love?” I know that I have cared deeply for another in a way that made my heart break and stole my breath. I’ve felt his pains and shared his happiness, but what that love in the sense of a soulmate? I would say not. It may have chipped some of my ideals of love, but for whatever species of love it was, it fostered my expectation for love to be greater and stronger than before.