‘The human heart needs to love. It’s something built into us from the moment we’re born, if not before. We come out of the womb squalling and frightened, evicted from the warm darkness that’s the only home we’ve ever known, where we needed nothing, into a cold loud bright place where we suffer hunger and thirst, and then we’re placed into our mother’s arms. Our mothers feed us and burp us, wipe us when we’re dirty, kiss us when we cry. She’s the sun and we’re little seedlings; we grow toward her as the source of all that’s good. Even if she isn’t all that good.
Even if she didn’t want children, even if she’s neglectful, we love her anyway. We have no other choice. For a while, she’s all we need. Then things get complicated. Around about age two, we start realizing we’re separate people and we practice saying “No!”, just to prove it, and over the next several decades we just keep on growing away, but we do not lose the need to love, to touch, to be touched. The need for intimacy. Somewhere along the way, the hormones kick in, and sex only complicates the whole issue.
If we’re lucky, we develop into a person who’s capable of a long-term intimate relationship and having a family of our own. If we’re unlucky, we wind up living with a triple-digit number of cats and no one notices we’re dead until the smell gets too bad. If we’re not just unlucky, but cursed, if through mistreatment and punishment, the ability to love gets broken, the need still doesn’t go away. It becomes a rage. And the person becomes a psychopath.’
- The Outsiders