I used to think it was worse to love more than you are loved, but I’ve been spending a lot of time this summer learning to see love as its own reward. I’ve been learning to enjoy the feeling of loving someone regardless of how they feel toward me. And now that I know this is possible, I’d rather be a person who loves more than a person who is loved. (Though both, of course, is ideal.)
I’ve previously shared this dialogue between Charlie and his Brother from the movie Adaptation, but I think it’s particularly elucidating in this field:
— There was this time in high school. I was watching you out the library window. You were talking to Sarah Marsh.
— Oh, God. I was so in love with her.
— I know. And you were flirting with her. And she was being really sweet to you.
— I remember that.
— Then, when you walked away, she started making fun of you with Kim Canetti. And it was like they were laughing at me. You didn’t know at all. You seemed so happy.
— I knew. I heard them.
— How come you looked so happy?
— I loved Sarah, Charles. It was mine, that love. I owned it. Even Sarah didn’t have the right to take it away. I can love whoever I want.
— But she thought you were pathetic.
— That was her business, not mine. You are what you love, not what loves you. That’s what I decided a long time ago.
In truth, I believe any relationship is asymmetrical. Some may fluctuate and some may have more balance than others—but they will never be perfectly even. This interpretation of love, as a worthwhile feeling, has helped me grapple with that.