There is a person who ostensibly wants love very much. They are dating with intent. That is dating with an intent to marry, to form a complete life with someone, to stop ever having to date anyone else again. They don't hold back. They suggest a second date almost immediately and then a third one. They message constantly. They aren't shy to declare their feelings by the end of the first month. They buy little gifts. They hug a lot. They love holding hands. It's a hugely moving picture of love. The difficulty is how much this person wants it to come right. They've been lonely for the longest time, arguably since they were a child. They did have love back then, but it was shattered or

compromised to an extent that's perhaps never really been dealt with or understood. Maybe a beloved adult died or went away or someone got very sick and now it doesn't feel like the world can ever be stable. Love always seems on the verge of getting extinguished. Nothing ever quite feels solid. That's why one has to move very fast and hold on very tightly and ask a lot of questions of the partner. Are you sure you're okay? Do you still care? Is this for real? It's because of worry. worry about how safe love is that the worried person often feels they need to raise their voice and ends up sounding rather harsh. Anger feels warranted or at least becomes inevitable when their partner

has come home 10 minutes late. It's because of worry that they start an argument about the partner's ex who they suspect the more they think about it and they thought about it all afternoon may not be entirely off the scene. It's because of worry that they spoil a dinner in a restaurant by accusing their partner of flirting with a waiting staff. It's because of worry that they call their partner ungrateful and an extremist threaten to leave them. They want so much to be reassured, to be told they matter, but they're so alarmed that it seems that all they may really want to do is attack, criticize, create pressure, and destroy. It can be dispiriting to be on the receiving end

of love from someone who can't accept that love might be real. Eventually, the most patient lover may start to get fed up. They've told them again and again that they love them. They spent an hour trying to unpick a fight about nothing. They've done everything to prove that they aren't having an affair with anyone at work. They've stressed that the weekend they have to spend by themselves has nothing to do with rejection and everything to do with catching up on their projects. And so begins by a terrible irony. The very thing the loving but worried person has feared from the start. One somber day, the lover tells them they just can't take it anymore. They need some space. They don't have the energy to explain once

again. They might walk out very suddenly and ask never to be disturbed again. This sorrowful lover who loves with too much fear alerts us to a curious aspect of love. that wanting a safe relationship with too much intensity can be the very element that renders it dangerous. That if we never enjoyed security in childhood, we may seek it with excessive urgency in adulthood, resulting in a double punishment and exclusion. That we need to believe that trust and goodness could be real to give them a chance to one day become so.