'The Distant Star'

 Have you ever loved someone?

Anyone? It could be your parents, a close friend, a pet, or even a plant.Love is universal, isn’t it? It’s something we all experience in some form. And when we love, there’s always a quiet fear nestled in the back of our minds—the fear of losing them, of not being loved in return. Love grows, often because we gain something from the one we love—affection, comfort, or even a sense of belonging. But then, there are also the selfless loves, the kind that need nothing in return, like the bond we share with God, where love exists beyond conditions, simply as a presence.

Recently, I watched a movie starring my favorite actor, Abhay Verma, and while his performance captivated me, it’s the story that stirred deeper thoughts. The film delicately portrays one-sided love—a love that’s felt fully by one heart, yet doesn’t reach the other. In the film, Abhay’s character, Bittu, confesses his feelings to his crush. Her response is gentle yet heartbreaking—she treasures their bond, but she can’t return his feelings the same way. Instead of crumbling, Bittu smiles and walks away. That simple act of acceptance held a beauty I can’t quite describe.

Love, at its core, is powerful—both a blessing and a burden. It can be the most beautiful experience, lifting us to heights we never knew existed, filling our hearts with warmth and joy. But love, in its intensity, can also be destructive. It can make people blind, drive them mad. History and stories are filled with people who have committed heinous acts in the name of love, trying to possess what cannot be owned. It’s a force so potent that it can lead us down a dark path when we let it control us. Yet, for all its potential to cause harm, love is also responsible for so much good. It’s the inspiration behind great art, grand sacrifices, and meaningful change. Some people, driven by love, have built worlds, shaped societies, and made the ultimate sacrifices—not for recognition, but because love compelled them to.

But then, there’s one-sided love. One-sided love is unique because it doesn’t fit into the usual definitions of love’s give and take. It’s like standing in the rain, feeling every drop, but knowing the clouds won’t part for you. It’s bittersweet—a love that doesn’t seek ownership or demand anything in return. When you love someone without expecting them to love you back, you’re forced to confront the truth about love. It’s not about possession or control; it’s about appreciation, about finding joy in the simple fact that someone exists in this world who stirs something profound in you.

But one-sided love is painful, undeniably so. When you pour all your emotions into someone who cannot, or will not, reciprocate, it can feel like your heart is caught in a storm. Yet, there’s a quiet beauty in accepting this pain. Because, ultimately, love isn’t meant to cause harm. The true measure of love is not in how much we can hold onto someone, but in how we let them go. It’s about understanding that their happiness may not involve us—and that’s okay.

Too often, people let unreturned love twist them into something unrecognizable. They become consumed by jealousy, bitterness, or even rage, believing that love entitles them to something. But that’s not what love is. Love is patient, it’s kind, and it’s understanding. When you truly love someone, you don’t hurt them for not choosing you. You don’t let your love turn into an obsession that drives you to harm. Instead, you cherish them from a distance, appreciating their presence in your life, even if it’s not in the way you once dreamed.

True love, even when one-sided, teaches us grace. It teaches us that it’s okay to love someone even if they never return that love. Because love isn’t about winning someone’s heart—it’s about giving yours freely, without strings attached. One-sided love, when embraced, can teach us the art of living with open hands, not clenched fists. It’s about loving someone so deeply that their happiness matters, even if that happiness doesn’t include you.

And in the end, love isn’t about possession—it’s about presence. Loving someone unconditionally, even after rejection, shows us that love can exist in its purest form: not as something we own, but as something we carry in our hearts. There’s a kind of strength in loving without expectation, in continuing to live and love without letting it break you. It’s a silent victory, knowing you can let go without bitterness, that you can love someone without needing them to be yours.

That, to me, is the real beauty of love—the ability to love freely, to let go gracefully, and to live without resentment. To love someone for who they are, not for what they can give you, is perhaps the truest form of love.