There’s this notion that unrequited love is hell, where heartbreak is inevitable: but people tend to forget that it’s a form of love nonetheless: in fact it is the epitome of love for it’s unconditional. Love, in itself, can never inflict pain or induce malencholy, it is the consequences or rather our pride and need for our loved one to return that love that makes us feel like fools, like a prisoner awaiting death… Indeed, if our love was returned living would appear a little more joyous, and so would the sky… but you see that’s a “bonus’ - the person you love loving you back is a ’‘gift’, one which isn’t always granted and which we shouldn’t expect… in fact we should expect nothing, for love has no space for greed, it is brimmed with selflessness and virtue! It is a lovers duty to fathom that his only role is that of the conductor not the light bulb, of the snow falling from the mountains not the snowman, the pawn not the king, a generous provider whom knows no evil but is only capable of doing good… and when one takes that role and fulfils is, when one grabs the rope of vulnerability and plunges down, then and only then will he experience the exuberance of love and its perfection. Only when we love without conditions will we ever master love, unrequited love… the epitome of all loves.
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