“The Only Way to Never Hurt is to Never Love at All.”

Sometimes I really feel doomed to the bitterness that comes from loving more than the love I receive in return. Forgive me if I sound sour, that is not my intended tone. I simply want to muse about this thought and this medium is readily available to me. I’ve questioned this nearly every time I have been disappointed in love and life, but perhaps I am seeing it in a new light now. Before, I would fall to my knees and tearfully question God if I perhaps am not meant to be happy in this life. Happy. Funny word. What does it even mean? I think that is meant for people named Aristotle and Aquinas, not Westhoff. So what then? Why does this feeling persist and remain? Perhaps I am just not fully satisfied with the miracle of each breath the Father has gifted me with. Perhaps I need to call on the detachment of John of the Cross and Ignatius Loyola. This is certainly true. Were I detached from the world and satisfied with God alone, I clearly would not be lamenting the continued scourge that I perceive myself to be afflicted with. I do try, though, and I have never claimed to be a great saint worthy of such gifts from the Almighty. Unworthy. Yes, terribly unworthy. Maybe that holds the answer then. Not that I am unworthy of grace and therefore am saddled with difficulty and woe, quite the opposite. None are worthy of the gifts given them, but maybe I have only now finally understood my gift. The gift of giving love and not receiving it back in full measure. What trick is this, though? The gift of non-reciprocated love? Please, this is no gift. True. Consider, however, the One among us who gave (and still gives) the largest measure of love while receiving the smallest portion in return. The man from Nazareth, Love himself! Jesus Christ. So, Lord, am I supposed to be like you? Always giving and never receiving the full measure back? If this is the case then alone I shall surely fail, but with You I can do all things. Only You know the answer, so until the day comes, which I am moving towards with every passing moment, when I finally share with you the full knowledge of my very creation, I beg you to strengthen me. Only you have ever borne any (and every) burden without stumbling, so when I inevitably fall, pick me up Jesus, and help me to say with all your saints, “Nunc coepi. Now I begin.”