I recently sat with a soul who called himself broken.
He said his heart had been shattered, that love had left him, and that he could not move on.
As he spoke, I could feel his pain not just the loss of another, but the deeper confusion of not understanding what love truly is.
So I did not try to console him.
I did not try to fix him.
I simply spoke about love.
I told him this: I do not make contracts with love.
Not because I am careless.
Not because I fear depth.
But because love is one of the most delicate movements of existence. It is not solid. It is not permanent. It is not something you can own.
Love is like the wind.
A cool breeze enters through one door, touches your skin, fills the room with freshness, and leaves through another door. You did not invite it. You could not stop it. You could only feel it while it was there.
If, in that moment, you try to catch it if you close your fist to hold the wind you will feel nothing.
In a closed hand, there is no breeze. The more tightly you hold, the more empty your palm becomes.
This is where most hearts break.
Not because love left.
But because love was mistaken for possession.
We don’t suffer because someone moved on.
We suffer because we believed they were supposed to stay.
We don’t ache because love ended.
We ache because we turned a living experience into a contract.
Look closely: when love was present, it was beautiful. It was alive. It gave you moments of joy, warmth, intimacy, and growth. That was real. Nothing was false about it.
What causes pain is the demand that it should have remained the same.
I told him, I don’t promise forever not because I don’t value love, but because I respect life’s uncertainty. I don’t know who I will be tomorrow. I don’t know who will walk into my life in the next moment. And I refuse to lie to love by pretending otherwise.
Love does not need guarantees.
Love needs openness.
When love comes, let it come fully.
When it stays, let it stay freely.
When it leaves, let it leave without turning into a wound.
This does not make you weak.
It makes you whole.
To love without contracts is to love honestly. It is to meet each moment without borrowing security from the future. It is to say: I am here now, fully and that is enough.
The heart that learns this does not close after heartbreak.
It opens wider.
Because it finally understands:
Love was never taken away from you.
It passed through you.
And that passing was the gift.
एकात्म
