When Pieces of Love Get Strewn Around
An essay on giving, receiving, and expecting love, what gets lost in the process, and how to welcome your pieces of love back.
The charity shop a few streets away is my regular haunt for books. Every now and then, I stumble upon a gem left behind by unknown donors. One Day by David Nicholls caught my attention yesterday. I picked it up and read the blurb on the back. Hmm, intriguing plot. I suppose it has something special since it was turned into movie. Let me flip through it.
Before I could even blink—a piece of love—a note scribbled by someone named Jose fell out. I picked it up and felt my heart sink. It read:
“Perla, my dear, I could not be the person you expected me to be. I have felt for you like no one else in life, and perhaps my only mistake is letting you go. I love you” — Jose
I speculated how a note like this had ended up amidst the pages of a book in a charity shop. Had Jose given Perla this book with the note in it? Perhaps Perla simply used it as a bookmark, only to forget about it later on?
Maybe Perla had deliberately gotten rid of the book and the note - to forget both Jose and his gift. What had happened to Jose? I wondered. Had he survived the split and gone on with his life, or had he lost his sanity like the woman in the painting below? And what about Perla?
We can endlessly speculate on their story, much like the permutations and combinations we are taught during mathematics classes. It’s probably a good thing we will never know what happened. For, be it Perla or Jose, it’s not about the person who leaves us or breaks our heart. It’s about the parts of us we have lost. The pieces of love we gave to another and forgot about.
Grieving the one we love happens while forgetting to grieve what all we did for that love to stay alive. To keep that relationship going. To feel loved, and cared for.
Think of the (moral) exceptions we otherwise never would have made; the nights we stayed up instead of sleeping; the tears we shed out of sadness; the number of times we wanted to say “no” but said “yes”; and the number of times we were expected to give and give and give, without receiving and having our own expectations and needs met.
Jose, the writer of the note, probably knew this already. He knew that love in itself was not enough and how expectations can break us into pieces. Why else would he write “I couldn’t become the person you expected me to be?”
I felt deeply for Jose and Perla and didn’t buy the book in the end. I wouldn’t know what to do with the note, and discarding it would have felt like some sort of disrespect.
Walking back home, I reflected on the love I’ve lost various times in life - not just the romantic, Jose and Perla type.
Love lost from family and friends is painful at any age, as it is usually coupled with rejection or linked to unmet expectations. It takes great presence of mind to grasp how some people will never love you because you don’t live up to the picture they have painted. No matter how good you are or try to be to them, it will never be enough.
I am confident you have lost love in some form as well, for such is the way of life. No one is spared.
It’s an arduous and intriguing thing, this need to love and be loved. Yet, it keeps us going. Despite falling down, we let our scraped knees heal and get up to ride the bike of life once again. We find new ways to love and be loved, which is worth celebrating. Even when you have to be your own cheerleader.
What has helped me—in every relationship—is asking myself at the beginning ”What parts of myself do I want to see honoured and cherished?”
Whenever relationships have ended, I have gracefully reflected on questions such as “Do you recognise the person you became in this relationship? Do you like being this person? Do you (still) want to be like that? Which parts of yourself did you give away too quickly? Which parts do you welcome back?”
Yes, I welcomed them back: my soft, kind, giving, and trusting parts shared with people who didn’t care for them. Taking them back was a lesson in itself; I didn’t need to change for people or expect them to change for me. I simply needed to understand who accepts me by accepting myself first. Soft, squishy parts included.
So, take them back by remembering who you were before the loss of love. Accept and don’t discard your pieces of love just because someone didn’t appreciate them.
There is some comfort and solace to be found amidst the love we lose in our lives; No matter how small or big, this loss makes space for new energies, and new forms, expressions, and shapes of love.
Don't grieve. Anything you lose comes round in another form—Rumi
With gratitude,
Raksha
Such a great read!!✨
Thrift shops and second hand bookstores are filled with hidden treasures. I really felt understood by this post, maybe because, I have also experienced this with my ex-friends.
Thankyou✨♥️
Thank you for writing this. It was a balm to my scars and wounds.