Kierkegaard and love

From his youth, Kierkegaard seemed to sense that solitude was his natural condition. The most defining moment was when he broke up with the love of his life because he knew his deep melancholy would be torturous for his companion.

He was a man who didn't believe in half-hearted love. And so he chose to devote himself fully to his first love — writing philosophy for the rest of his life.

One could argue that he wasn't being sacrificial in his love but rather chose his own interests in pursuing a life that held greater meaning to him. That he was more afraid of ruining her hopes of a marital life than having the courage to love her despite the fears.

I, however, see a man who foresaw the emptiness such a life would bring him — and eventually her. The realisation that the chains of marital life would drown him in despair, haunting him and his partner into a life neither could fully inhabit.

The question remains — had he been married, would he still have produced some of the greatest work in existential philosophy? Maybe. Maybe not. But even if he did, he would have been consumed by the ghost of a life he abandoned for another.

I believe a partner should be a muse. Someone whose presence makes you so secure in yourself that you seek not solitude — but depth.