When we love without expecting anything back, we try. At least we try; there’s always that. When we love without expecting anything back, we put ourselves out there and stand in the spotlight, even if it seems like we’re walking on a fragile tightrope half the time, wondering if this will be the moment we slip or fall. And then we muse that it doesn’t really matter. What’s the point of hiding? What do we really gain?
When we love without expecting anything back, we don’t ruminate on the fact that they are not in love with us, that their emotional dispositions do not align with ours, that we seem to care just a bit more, which is reflected in our persistence. They don’t initiate delicate, sweet prose, and dole out complimentary thoughts. They’re not messaging us lyrics from an obscure, yet moving, song, like we do – we’re curious if the words brighten up their morning, or on a deeper level, resonate something more. But of course, they don’t read in between the lines. Leave that romanticism to our end of the ether connection.
When we love without expecting anything back, we don’t mind their flaws or their difficulties or their past mistakes, because we want all of them anyway, entirely whole. We wear our hearts on our sleeves; we give ourselves, we convey our honesty, and for that, we’ve done enough. Actually, we’ve done more than enough; we’ve erased the chance for regrets, for those pesky ‘what if’s within our own frame of mind.
When we love without expecting anything back, we allow ourselves to authentically be, and we invite vulnerability to strongly take its place alongside of us. We pine, we yearn, we smile, we miss, we cry – all in the name of being human. And to still feel how we feel and share those feelings? Why, that’s nothing to shudder at or be ashamed about. That’s fucking brave. That’s bold. That’s the antithesis of fear.