Love Unmet: Where to Store Such Things
This is a very common dilemma but so little time and space is dedicated to it.
Question: when love is unmet or unrequited or simply runs out (some still loves; someone leaves) where exactly, do you put this outcast, residual energy?
There’s hope that we might indeed find a way to dispose of nuclear energy but as for love that is not longer required or returned, where are you supposed to stock this tidbit that, heart and person tethered or not, has a life of its own.
You know the love I mean? The one that haunts your dreams and wakes you up at 4 am. The one that laces your mood and memory even when you are in the lineup at the new vegan place. The one that causes tears out of the blue. The love that seems to wait for lyric lines of certain songs and then neatly does you in and you pretend, at a stop light, to be adjusting your sunglasses. That sort of love.
It’s the love you hide from your friends because they will castigate and utter phrases like ‘he’s not worth it’ or ‘you deserve better’ which may or may not be true but you know the heart — whenever a little wisdom comes its way, it blocks its ears. Sense makes no sense to the heart and it cannot, like the ego, be shamed. An impervious heart that goes it’s own way might be the only way, I am quite convinced, that it can keep no ticking even when love has left the premises. If not for such honorable fibs, I am not sure it would survive.
Ahem. Now then.
Do you store unused love in the pantry? Label it with a fictitious spice name and place it in the dark recesses, way behind the artificial vanilla and the too-pungent rosemary and those bay leaves you use so rarely? Given that, you would be less likely to brush by that little jar pretty well filled with Unmet Love, sitting there like a cache of Saigon cinnamon you simply have no recipe that calls for it?
Some say even love gone awry or love gone hungry softens your edges. It makes you more ready for new and better love. I don’t know about that. I think it has a tendency to burrow in the recesses of your cells and keeps you a little sad even when you’re over it/him/her. Because the truth is, at a certain point love unmet morphs into sadness and if you let go of the sadness, that sweetness that was once the love itself fades away. And then, almost worse (and please don’t call it a clean slate: meh), there’s nothing. Not even the telltale hurt that reminds you for one moment in time, you loved someone and thought there was hope or it loved you back. Even briefly. And briefer still, you were in the promised land.