As I engage with myself, with complete honesty and brutality, there is an aspect of me who is always rushing to be loved, a hard-to-admit phenomenon that is grounded not on unconditionality, but a fragmented expectation that my lack will one day be fulfilled.
Then, I start to ask myself, is that true love? It is always not so easy to judge, sometimes it is and sometimes it is not. But what is commonly true is that we are always “first” broken, in the sense that loneliness, expectations, desires, ego always take hold of us and prevail, and from that state we hope the shadow will be taken away and our boredom will eventually be transformed into ecstasy.
It is an intricate matter, I cannot say for sure, I might be entirely wrong, but the fact that our “broken self” which we feel so attached with, constantly craves for the “other half”, are we sure that we do it out of pureness? Or it is just another excuse that we will never be whole by our own efforts, and we need someone to do it for us.
Why can’t we be whole first then only seek out for love? That kind of love must be so pure, so serene. We define love based on our faulty sense of self, is that love unconditional? Or it is insecurity and greed pretending something they are not? I am so curious. Always curious. It is so hard to admit, but I have to, I do not want a life so full of deceptions, I want a life full of depth even at the expense of a lonely death.
“I love you” is a contradiction, how can an insecure “I” loves? “love you” must then be purer than “I love you” I assume.