Unrequited Love

I was watching an episode of a TV show on Netflix recently when a character said in a very tragic sense, "All love is unrequited" to the object of said unrequited love. At first, I disregarded that statement as the kind of love-lorn rambling that someone in that situation (as poor Dante in this image, admiring his beloved Beatrice) is bound to say and didn't give it much of a second thought. Despite this character's suffering of love not returned, and the suffering of others like him, people do manage to fall in love with each other on a pretty regular basis, so how could all love be unrequited?

Some time later, I remembered an important lesson that I have learned about love: no two loves are exactly the same. Each love you feel is different because each situation is different, each person is different, and even you are different every time you feel a new one. I believe that this is an inherently good thing as it provides for a wonderful variety in relationships even though it does have the potential to also cause tension and misunderstandings.

So in light of this, I reevaluated the initial statement: is all love unrequited?

First, let us be clear as to what unrequited love is. According to Merriam-Webster, "unrequited" means "not reciprocated or returned in kind". So, technically speaking, unrequited love is a love of someone that is not reciprocated; said another way, the object of your love does not love you in the way that you love them.

Combining this definition with a little logic, my answer was, rather surprisingly, "yes". I know that logic and love don't often mix, but here's how I reached that conclusion:

1. I love person A.
2. If person A does not love me in return, my love is unrequited. This is fairly straightforward, and corresponds to the initial example at the beginning of the post.
3. If Person A does love me in return, their love for me is different than my love for them, by nature of the fact that each love is different. Said another way, they cannot love me in the same way that I love them. Nobody can. Therefore my love is still unrequited; person A loves me in return, but not in the way I love them.

So yes, in light of this little thought experiment I do now believe that all love is unrequited, although not in a tragic sense. To me, it is a beautiful thing that prevents life, and love, from becoming monotonous. It adds to the mystery that is the everyday world around us, and that is a very good thing.

What? You didn't think all of my ramblings were going to be about politics and Facebook-bashing did you? ;^)

(Image is taken from the public domain, courtesy of Wikipedia.)