Conditionality of love

 

“Love, in its purest form, is unconditional”—is something I’ve believed for a very long time. It was a narrative I grew up reading especially in my favourite romance books where the lead protagonist passionately falls in love with the antagonist. But more than that, love is a force—so strong that it transcends time, space, and even the boundaries of relationships we form with others. While the idea of love seems to go against Newton’s third law, the constant acceleration it brings into life makes you believe there’s some equality involved, at least in the beginning. When you love someone deeply, that love doesn’t simply vanish when the relationship ends. It doesn’t magically dissipate into thin air; instead, it lingers, imprints itself on your soul, brands itself into your entire existence and continues to shape your experiences and emotions, even after the final goodbye. For better or worse, it changes you entirely as a person and for the time that you allow yourself to fully immerse in love, it feels euphoric, to say the least.

Over the past couple of months, I’ve experienced love in its most raw and beautiful form. I felt emotions so intense that they completely paralyzed me against the fallout that was yet to come. The journey itself was filled with ease,  joy, pain, confusion, and, ultimately, a profound realization: love doesn’t end—it evolves. It keeps growing, and so do you with it. At first, there was disbelief and hesitation in acknowledging the horrors that came with heartbreak. How could someone who felt like the perfect piece of my life puzzle simply decide to walk away? How could they just unlove (me)? That’s where Bojack comes into play. He once said, 'Nobody completes anybody. That's not a real thing. If you're lucky enough to find someone you can halfway tolerate, sink your nails in and don't let go, no matter what.' With that thought in my head, I've become more rational in picking up the pieces of my heart, that I once thought were beyond repair.

My mind initially raced to places it shouldn’t have been, replaying every moment, relieving every memory, dissecting every word, trying to find where it all went wrong. The heartache, the struggle to understand why the love I poured so willingly wasn’t enough to hold things together, echoed in my mind like a constant drumbeat. It made me question whether love was ever enough, and if it wasn’t, would anything else ever be? I was trapped in a paradox of my own making, holding onto the belief that love fixes people, but when it came to me, it left me broken, inside and out. When things ended the way they did, I couldn’t help but feel a deep sense of loss—not just for the person, but for the future I had envisioned with them. The dreams, the hopes—all shattered in a single moment, now framed perfectly inside me. Dipta, who once woke up with the thought of sharing a cigarette in their favourite café with someone they loved, left that café with a void that felt impossible to fill.

 Every day since then, it felt like I was carrying the burden of unfulfilled love, and it weighed me down with every step I took to find something that could replace it. What was I supposed to do with all the love that still resided in me, the love that belonged to them? 

Blame became a close companion, and the weight it placed on my shoulders made it difficult to just accept things as they were. It’s easy to turn the finger inward, to think that maybe if I had been different, things might have worked out. The guilt and agony were equally overwhelming as I replayed every misstep, every flaw, wondering if those were the reasons the love wasn’t reciprocated in the end. This cycle of emotions lasted for days, making me question if I would ever be enough. It’s a painful spiral, where self-doubt and regret feed each other, leaving you feeling trapped in a cycle of “what-ifs.”

But then, there’s also a strange sense of gratitude. Gratitude for the time spent, for the memories made, for the love that was shared, and for every little thing we did together. Even in the pain, there’s a recognition of the beauty that existed between us. The bike rides, cigarettes at Prestige, the little duck, 5-minute walks in Thamel, matching t-shirts, the inside jokes I rarely understood—all become cherished memories, reminders that the love was real, even if it wasn’t meant to last. It’s a bittersweet realization that while the relationship has ended, the love remains, embedded in your heart, shaping who you are today. It changes you into a different human being because now you feel that your heart is capable of feeling things much greater than you realized.

Navigating the aftermath of a heartbreak is never easy. The world around you becomes a minefield of memories, and with each step you take, you risk triggering an explosion of emotions. A song, a place, a picture or even a simple object can flood you with emotions, pulling you back into the moments you shared, the memories you made, and the awkward silences that lingered between you. The grief feels insurmountable at times, a wound that refuses to heal because every time you start to feel a little better, reality creeps back in and reminds you that you were simply not enough. But within that grief lies the truth of love—it’s not something you can simply turn off. It’s a part of you, woven into the fabric of your being. No matter how angry, depressed, or shattered you feel, it’s still something that brings comfort on days that feel gloomy. 

The pain of losing someone you love can feel unbearable at times, but it also holds the power to transform and mend your heart into something new. In those moments of deepest despair, you begin to understand the true nature of love and the destruction it carries. Love isn’t about possession or reciprocation but the experience itself. Beyond that, it becomes a culmination of unrequited feelings that must be buried once they no longer serve you. Love is unconditional because it exists beyond the confines of a relationship. It’s a force that continues to influence your life, even when the person who sparked it is no longer by your side.

Healing from heartbreak is a journey, one that requires time, patience, and self-compassion. I’ve realised it’s about learning to let go—not of the love, but of the need for it to be returned in the way I once desired it to be. As I reflect on the past two months, I find comfort in the fact that I was able to love so deeply and completely. 

The love I shared with them will always be a part of me, even as I move forward. It has shaped me, taught me, and, most importantly, reminded me that love is not about the outcome—it’s about the experience. It’s about the joy, the connection, and even the pain, all of which contribute to the idea of being human. Love is unconditional because it doesn’t require reciprocation to exist. It doesn’t demand a happy ending to be meaningful. It simply is. And for that, I am grateful. To love and to be loved is a privilege, even when it ends in heartbreak. And in that, I find peace.