David Gomes

Read This When They Can’t Give You The Love You Need

You can tell someone enjoys your company through the pattern of their behaviors. It’s the way they lift their eyebrows at your messiness, hiding a grimace. It’s the way they trust to tell you they are having a hard day. It’s the way they ask about travel plans you disclosed weeks ago. You will laugh with them about mutual interests. You will recognize how safe you feel around them. You will share friend groups, terrifying experiences, work space, and hours of smiles. And despite the strength of these connections, you still may not be the person they settle with. 

These are people who know how to love humanity through seemingly unremarkable acts. These are people who explode within the company of others, igniting rooms like fireworks amid the night sky. But these people may not crave you with the same intensity you crave them. Unfortunately, these people you have grown to love may turn out to be those who cannot satiate the directed attention you need.

I know that it may ache. I know that opening the epicenter of your soul may feel disheartening. I know that it is not fair when all you have is love to give. But I hope you know that it is perfectly okay to care deeply for these people. It is something to celebrate. You are a vessel of boundless love—reciprocation does not define you. 

I hope within the calamity that comes in the absence of reciprocity, you observe the multidimensionality of love. Someone let you into their life to show you how to love someone else. These kinds of lessons shine with a beauty of their own. You get to pay attention to how they treat their families. You get to observe how they protect their friends. You get to witness examples of healthy love—good love—honest love. If you let these lessons flow through you, you learn that love isn’t actively trying to break hearts. It’s not out to hurt you. On most days, love is an accumulation of acts of kindness, some of which you were a recipient of.

Sometimes, it’s extremely difficult to accept this because we are conditioned to believe that the most pure love is that of loud emotions and grandiose gestures. We are conditioned to believe in tattoed “forevers” and in the promises of “to the grave.” But often, love is microscopically small like mutual interest about basketball games. Love is giggles about failed relationships. Love is sharing lunch. Love is bonding over favorite grocery stores. Love is paying for someone’s coffee order. Love is mowing your neighbors lawn. Love is listening even when your opinion differs. Love is praying those you love end up happy. 

Please, don’t let yourself believe that love can fit into a Venn diagram. It’s not a perfect circle of traits I like about you and those I do not. It’s not perfect circles of insta-moments and those that didn’t make the cut. It’s not “I love you if…” It’s not “I love you when…” It’s just that I do. I love you because I can. I love you even when I can’t understand. I love you for you, despite the things I don’t like about you. I love you in the time we have together. 

Love—ebbing like seasons in the Northwest. Most of the time, it is not a forever, but it is still here for you.