You don’t love them. You don’t. You think you do, but you don’t.
You love you. And maybe they love you. And you love that they love you. But you don’t love them.
For some reason, you think love is a noun. You say you are in love, as if it were a destination. This destination is a gelatinous amoeba, swallowing you whole, drowning out your logical mind with smothering indifference. “I’m in love. They make me so happy.”
Stop it. You make you happy, or you don’t. You can let how someone treats you initiate this reaction, but they do not control it. And the minute they do something that runs contrary to your happy button, you’ll be questioning the entire relationship. Just stop.
Love is a verb. It is an action carried out, regardless of reciprocation. And there is the rub. You love them because they love you. But love is an action. It is a deliberate choice to think about someone as much as you think about yourself, which is – to be honest – a lot. Love is being kind without expecting something in return, and love is definitely not just bouncing nice feelings back at someone else because they did it first.
Love is not oxygen. Love is sweat. It is the byproduct of hard work and exercise and action. Love ‘the noun’ is a product of laziness. It says, “Make me feel good. And if you don’t, I’m going to go somewhere else that will make me feel good.” Love ‘the noun’ is an addiction. So cut it out.