Our Love is Radioactive: Why Love Needs More Control Rods and Less Firewood

Musing

In the yonder days of the internet, there was a brief moment where people realized potatoes make a better metaphor for love than roses.  When I first heard this, it opened up a world of terrible metaphors and statements about love that when looked at deeply, make no sense at all—Romeo and Juliet is an allegory about why it’s dumb to make decisions purely off emotion, the statement “if you can’t handle me at my worst, you don’t deserve me at my best” justifies toxic behavior, and whoever thinks love means never having to say you’re sorry doesn’t know how relationships work. 

I will add to this pantheon by taking down another love metaphor.  Love is not a fire.  Love is a nuclear reactor.

Let’s acknowledge the similarities.  Both produce energy, require fuel, and provide light.  These are all good things that translate easily to a loving relationship, but each handles them in distinct ways worth considering.  Walk through the process of establishing a nuclear reactor, and you’ll see the parallels to a successful relationship.

First, there’s recognizing the need.  Reactors don’t pop up like the endless weeds in my garden.  They are placed with purpose to fulfil a known need and—just as importantly—needs into the future. 

Translation: relationships are more likely to succeed if the partners understand who they are and what they need before getting started.  Sure, things will change along the way, but that’s to be expected.  The important part is to ensure everyone is on the same page, working towards the same end.

Next is taking the vision from paper to reality.  The reactor’s foundation gets laid, support structures get established, and the facility gets connected to the local infrastructure.  These aren’t the money maker actions that get all the glitz and glamour, but they are crucial for everything that goes into making a reactor functional.

Translation: everyone wants the end result of a loving relationship, but that doesn’t come from nowhere.  There is a ton of effort put into making a relationship work, and most of it isn’t sexy.  Everything from meeting friends and family to understanding how partners communicate best matters, and skimping on this part almost guarantees issues down the road.

Now it’s time for the magic.  Fuel gets loaded, a neutron source gets added, the control rods lift, and BAM!  Fission, baby.  The power of the sun in the palm of your hand.  Yes, I know that’s fusion, and no, I don’t care.  Little bits of stardust split and split again in a chain reaction of energy that eventually comes out of the little sockets on your wall to power your karaoke machine you bought as a joke but now use more religiously than your toothbrush. 

Translation: to mix metaphors, this is “The Spark™” modern society constantly gets hung up on.  It’s when the focus of a relationship moves from early infatuation to something self-sustaining.  Maybe it’s the first time you say “I love you,” or maybe it’s the night you both stay up laughing together till 3 AM and realize you never want it to end.  It could be the shared commitment of marriage or an unspoken understanding that this connection is different, deeper.  It’s all these things and none of them, and it’s unique to each relationship.  What matters is the transition point from the relationship being sustained by external factors to when the internal matters more.

Your reactor is cooking, but you have to make sure its output stays within the appropriate bounds.  Too little, and you can’t use your karaoke set.  Too much, and HBO gets to make Chernobyl 2: This Time, It’s Personal.  This is when you use your control rods and fuel insertion to maintain that smooth, steady flow of energy that keeps all the lights green and the klaxons off.

Translation: relationships aren’t static things, but they generally have a happy place they like to stay within.  Doing nothing will lead to the relationship withering, while doing too much can cause it to overheat and explode.  This is why it’s important for both partners to understand themselves and what they want out of a relationship, plus for both of them to know how to communicate with each other.  Putting in the right amount of effort to keep things growing in a positive way is hard to do as a team.  Alone, it’s impossible.

The reactor is now pumping out energy, but the work isn’t done.  Up next is the countless hours of maintenance and observation needed to keep the reactor running.  People have to update equipment, mend cracks in the foundation, and keep the reactor secure from threats.  Reactors can run for decades, outlasting one crop of workers and moving onto the next without a single break in delivering energy. 

Translation: you thought the work getting your relationship built on a solid foundation was hard?  My friend, that was just the start.  Now is when you hope you did your best on building the foundation, because if you didn’t, you can bet you’ll be going back trying to patch over the gaping holes as you try to keep your love from collapsing in on itself.  Even if the foundations seemed perfect at the time, you have to check them constantly.  Life situations change, and just like a shifting landscape, previously unknown forces can throw things into turmoil.

What about meltdowns?  Well, what about them?  Everyone gets all in a tizzy over nuclear meltdowns, but in seventy years, only two reactors have had major reactor incidents—Chernobyl and Fukushima Daiichi.  Which has hurt more and caused more damage, nuclear meltdowns or wildfires?

Translation: yes, relationships do end, and yes, sometimes they end badly.  But if you put more thought and effort into your relationship than just tossing logs on a fire and hoping things don’t spiral out of control, you’re far more likely to succeed in maintaining that relationship in a healthy way for both partners. 

Congratulations, you now have a successful nuclear reactor!  Unlike a fire that is harder to control and can burn out (or out of control) quickly, your firmly established and well-cared for reactor will provide a constant stream of energy for years to come.  Now go find your partner, look them lovingly in the eye, and say the words every woman or man wants to hear:

“You’re my critical mass.”