Time to reset

Dr Fahim Chand | Tuesday August 19, 2025 08:51

The lyrics don’t always say things directly; they hint, remember, and hope.

A chorus returns again and again, clinging desperately. Whether it’s a slow ballad or an upbeat track, the message stays familiar: someone meant something. Someone still does. You hear it in the rise and fall of melody. Across every style and decade, this one subject keeps showing up. Not because it’s simple, but because it speaks to something essential. Music manages to express what we often can’t: the closeness, the distance, the longing. And each time the song plays, we remember.

Or wish. Or miss. Or maybe we listen. Before it became a lyric or a late-night confession, love was just a word, shaped from Old English lufu, tied to Germanic lubo, and further back to the root leubh, meaning “to care” or “to desire.” No flowers, no slow dances, just a sound grunted by ancestors trying to name the ache. Over centuries, the word got dressed up, set to music, and handed roses. But its essence? Still the same: need, want, hold. Science, ever the romantic, strips love down to chemistry. Oxytocin, dopamine, serotonin: neurotransmitters playing conductor to our poems and poor decisions. That racing heart? Adrenaline. The obsession? Dopamine on overdrive. The comfort in a long-term connection?

Thank oxytocin, the so-called “cuddle hormone.” Even brain scans light up like Paris at night when we’re in love. But here’s the twist: knowing it’s a chemical cocktail doesn’t make it feel any less real. If anything, it proves love isn’t just in our heads, it’s wired into our very biology, waiting for the right spark. Happily ever after” looks great on paper, especially wedding certificates. But love’s longevity? That’s a messier story. Statistically, nearly 40–50% of marriages in places like the U.S. end in divorce. Turns out, “’til death do us part” sometimes means “until one of us starts leaving our clothes on the bedroom floor or forgets an anniversary, again.” And yet, people keep signing up. Why? Because, despite the odds, some couples do last. They evolve. They survive mismatched thermostats, snoring, in-laws, and that mysterious way toothpaste always ends up everywhere but the tube.

Longevity in love doesn’t come gift-wrapped. It’s made in everyday choices: listening, adapting, forgiving, laughing at the same dumb joke for the 200th time. Science says pair-bonding can deepen over time, shifting from dopamine-fueled fireworks to oxytocin-rich stability. Less “can’t eat, can’t sleep,” more “did you take your meds?” It’s not always thrilling, but it’s real. So, is it forever possible? Yes, but it might look more like matching sweatpants and synchronized dental checkups at Prodent dental clinic than a fairy tale. Still, for some, that’s just perfect. Most of us have caught a glimpse, likely several, of the wedding of the world’s fourth-richest man, Jeff Bezos, to Lauren Sánchez. The official date was June 27, 2025, though when you’re worth $235 billion, your wedding becomes a long weekend affair, stretching from June 25 to 28. The larger the bank account, the longer it takes to convince the world you’re truly in love. Ever the sentimentalist, Bezos chose Venice, Italy, a city already floating on centuries of romance, as the setting.

The celebration? A casual $40 million. For Bezos, that’s roughly the equivalent of buying a gourmet latte at 4th Unit in Phakalane, black truffle foam optional. This isn’t his first stroll down the aisle. He and Mackenzie Scott called it quits in April 2019 after 25 years of marriage. Her parting gift? Amazon shares are worth $35–36 billion. That’s not a breakup, it’s an economic event. So, does Bezos still believe in fairy tales? Apparently, yes, with one precaution: a prenuptial agreement for Sánchez worth $60 million. Call it love, version 2.0, now with stronger encryption. We wish Bezos and Sánchez a happily ever after as we return to our less gilded realities, where love isn’t measured in yachts or $40 million weddings. The economics of billionaire romance can be exhausting, so maybe it’s time to reset. Cue the Commodores’ Three Times a Lady or John Legend’s You and I to trigger that sweet neurochemical rush. Because real love needs no fireworks, just a good song, a warm glance, and zero need for a prenup.