Absence of something sometimes makes us crave for it… may it or may it not hold any significance in our lives. We may want to have it by our side, let it just sit there without being of any use to us. Absence and more so, pronounced absence is the mist that makes the free flow of thoughts in mind difficult.
What we like belongs to us and what belongs to us should sit right by our side for ready reference. When you like something, one half of you tries to own it and convinces the other gullible half that it is already yours. Ancient Hindu wise men had realized this mind-play long ago and ever since have tried to preach about detachment and contentment through scriptures.
A variation of this peculiar behaviour is when you like something or someone and assume that (it) should belong to you. Repeated telling convinces the mind that you do deserve governance over it in lieu of the love you oh so quietly shower on it. But love, dahling, is exceptional. It cannot be governed, it cannot be generated and in some instances, it does not exist at all.
Love deserves more than it gets but, it is true only when it goes through dismay. Proving your love true is insignificant and without proving your love’s mettle, you don’t deserve it. My love for paradoxes doesn’t stop here, but I should as I am getting late and you are getting bored.