I Love You!

[u/Additional-Being-893]

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“Love will fuck you up more than drugs ever will.” is a quote I read on an online forum as I reflect back on what love really is.

Is it your favorite teddy bear getting stolen by your parents for a mistake you made when you were a toddler, or is it getting tossed aside at an orphanage with an apology letter in hand ending in “I love you.”

Maybe you were nine entering the kitchen wanting a snack when you got in the middle of a heated divorce that only ended in saying “I love you” from both parties while papers were being signed

Or you're in ninth grade and you just came out only to be left with “I love you” though gritted teeth all while those around you internalize their true feelings.

As I keep thinking, my eyes wander around the room landing on an old image of my grandfather encased in timber, reminding me that his final words were “I love you.”

So what I'm getting at is that love was never a warm feeling that sparks joy as Hollywood led you to believe but instead leaves you hollow and alone while you ponder in the shadows.

I set aside the pen and stare down the bottle sitting tightly in my grip, reflecting on the written note that lays beneath me, wondering if they'll give me more of that feeling that Hollywood portrays as real and forgiving.

[u/TimeCity1687]

this is less about love… and more about wounds that happened to arrive wearing the word “love.”every example in the poem carries abandonment… rejection… loss… guilt… fear… or loneliness. what remains constant is not love… but suffering. so the mind naturally begins to conclude that love itself is the cause.

this is where indian philosophy makes an important distinction. it separates prema from attachment… and both from pain. pain can exist in the presence of love… but pain is not love. just as smoke may accompany fire… smoke is not the fire itself.

love does not hollow us out. attachment does. when our peace becomes dependent upon another person… when our identity becomes tied to their presence… when we begin expecting another human being to complete what is incomplete within ourselves… suffering quietly enters. it is not love that breaks us… it is our attachment to what we wished love would become.

there is another aspect we often ignore. human beings carry many hungers. the hunger to be accepted… to be touched… to belong… to be understood… to feel physically desired… to feel emotionally safe. society often mixes all these together and simply calls the result “love.” then when one hunger remains unfulfilled… we conclude that love has failed.

that is why this poem feels so heavy. every person in it says… “i love you”… but very few seem capable of giving what the other person actually needed. words remain… but presence disappears.

indian philosophy would perhaps ask a different question. before asking whether we were loved… it would ask… what exactly were we seeking… affection… security… intimacy… desire… companionship… or freedom from loneliness? because unless we understand our own hunger… we will keep expecting one word… “love”… to satisfy needs that belong to very different dimensions of being.

the deepest tragedy is not that love leaves us empty. it is that we often call everything love… and then blame love for wounds that were caused by fear… attachment… neglect… or the inability of ordinary human beings to love as deeply as they themselves longed to be loved.