Can Love Be Logical?

There’s something strange I’ve noticed about myself.

I never try to use logic when I’m falling in love.
But I do when I’m trying to stay.

Maybe you’ve done it too —
Listing reasons to hold on,
As if affection could be graphed or proven.
As if devotion could be saved with an equation:
Love = memories × patience ÷ misunderstandings + history.

When the feeling is fading,
my logic becomes louder.
“Every couple has problems.”
“He's kind in his own way.”
“This is just a phase.”
The math becomes emotional CPR.

But the truth?
I’ve never been a logical lover.
I’m the type who dives in without checking the depth.
Who believes love should be lived, not managed.
Who accepts its absurdity like a beautiful, flawed poem.

Still —
I overthink.

Not the love itself, but everything around it.
Do they feel the same?
Did I say too much?
How long will this last?
Was that moment real… or just me imagining things again?

I live in questions.
Sometimes they’re called doubt.
Sometimes hope.

And I’ve realized something:
The people who calculate love aren’t cold.
They’re scared.
They’ve been burned.
They’re just trying to protect a soft place —
with sharp tools.

I wrote a story once about a girl who was all logic.
And a boy who wanted to make her feel something that couldn’t be coded.
It was fun — like planting a garden inside a spreadsheet.
Watching wildflowers bloom in unexpected cells.

Writing that story changed me.
I started to forgive parts of my past.
To stop labeling old loves as “failures.”
They gave me life. Literally.
They gave me the words I write today.

So maybe love can’t be logical.
Maybe it shouldn’t be.
But understanding why we try —
that’s where the compassion begins.

And if love were a person?
She’d probably whisper:
“It’s okay not to make sense.
Just don’t stop feeling.”

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📘 This post was inspired by the novel (Un)Calculated Love — a quiet story about logic, longing, and the beautiful mess between them. [Read more here →]