My recollection on “My love is as a fever, longing still” – sonnet 147 of the Bard has often been such a tremendous catastrophe that never keeps me on cloud nine.
I am over the moon even with the harsh sense of skepticism and ambiguity involved in my love for him. My love for him is a slithery and slimy slope to tread, nonetheless of any kind of shielding barricades that I might have constructed.
My love for him is a sublime and phenomenal feeling that also bears the utter most frequent and poignant agony and sorrow.
I blame myself as my love for him being unrequited and the very same weight of that realism and sensibility on my heart contemplating my current endeavours. My unrequited love for him blossomed out of the blue.
The Bard’s sonnet 147 comes into my rescue. I wish to take a moving and touching part from the typical romanticism which is predominantly involved in my writing. My love for him is a disease; a malady which has robbed me of my intellectual faculty of thinking judiciously.
Nostalgic portrait
Sickness is the synonym for my obsessive lust and passion; it wants nothing much more than the one and only thing that would fuel this terrifying disease of promoting unhealthy thoughts. I paint an eerie and nostalgic portrait of love as a form of a baneful and noxious disorder that is aggravated by a sheer sense of insistent and unquenchable desire of being a victim of unrequited love.
I wrestle and tussle with the internal conflict that remains between reason and fancy. Damaging self-esteem is the knack that unrequited love has got. It is a strenuous and painful experience: this critical experience itself frequently leaves a person feeling unsung, unvalued and terribly neglected. No matter whether it is inhabited with the characteristics of unrequited love, idealised love or love that is forbidden, it has a trait of being painfully challenging in navigating these ardent and fervent feelings.
Meanwhile, I am reminded of the silver line in the dark cloud. The thrill of the misery that I get is pivotal; as and when he is not bothered to understand as to how I feel, I could still imagine the ecstasy of his response towards my confession.
I have read that scarcity effect augments our craving and longing for those who are not physically and benevolently available. I could still recall a certain researcher highlighting the fact that the growing and evolutionary roots link romantic rejection to a fundamental fright of social disbarring and survival ultimatum.
Chronicles with cultural significance more or less add lustre to unrequited love; such a prominence may distract you in giving chase to the unachievable. Though being painful and undesirable, unrequited love stands strong due to the fact that it is decorated with unfulfilled fervid and fierce desires and investments. The spirit of wish and optimism which the other party might ultimately reciprocate can escalate the emotions into greater heights.
Pain
It is said that love is not often violins playing in the background; it is at times an awful and appalling pain in the worst place like no other. Even if you are down in the dumps when your love is not reciprocated, unrequited love convinces you of the gold mine of the unconditional love abundantly delivered by you to someone whose cup of tea is not you but somebody else.
Under very stiff circumstances, love too may have the traits of the barter system; you give love and in return you simultaneously become a recipient of love. In contrast, your love is shared with no cost; the concept of charitable love is colossal.
Though being bitter, patience is better. It takes ages for you to develop patience in you, but you get it for free. It calmly and swiftly grows under your skin whilst you are eagerly waiting for your love to be acknowledged.
As much as you are in search of hope, nothing is able to compete with the enormous patience of waiting for love. As you get through the test of your anguished haze, you will teach yourself that you certainly want nothing but you only who can make yourself feeling effortlessly cheery and merry in your heart. 01
