Unrequited: The jigsaw

by | Aug 10, 2019 | Uncategorized | 1 comment

Not for want of trying, this piece will not fit

I wrote this piece almost four years ago after a similar experience of being in ‘The Suitor’s’ position. Now, some forty eight months later, my theory has been blown out of the water. Unrequited love is the best kind of love. It’s painless because it doesn’t come with memories, photographs, letters and places you can never visit again. The ‘Beau’ is still in my life, still ignorant of my affection, but she doesn’t hurt me; she never will. Where as, scrappy little ‘Second Best’ will always be just that…

Happy to discuss anytime.

How often have we seen it, the open triangle of unrequited love, flapping like a Tibetan prayer flag in the Himalayan wind. No hope of closure, forever open to the elements. Strung out to fade with time from a crisp, flaming vermilion to a tattered terracotta. The croupier that is human attraction deals another losing hand to three poor souls. First the Suitor, longing for his Beau to the point of delusion. Second the Beau flattered but embarrassed by the unwanted attention which is not reciprocated. Finally, Second Best caught up in the whole sad affair and the one set to lose the most.

Now the scene is set, I’ll tell you the story. The suitor, lonely and vulnerable after great loss, begins to crave something to fill the huge void left by the loss. Along comes Beau, a perfectly shaped piece of the personal jigsaw with everything in the right place. All that’s required is to pick it up, slot it into the void and everything will be complete. Wrong. Not for want of trying, this piece will not fit, hovering over the intricately shaped gap without success. After much effort, frustration and heartache, the beautiful fragment, which should have been discarded, is placed in a safe spot. A big mistake as there it lies unaware, ridiculing with its familiar allure.

After some time, another fragment appears; Second Best, somewhat smaller and a bit faded but with all of the right curves. This consenting little scrap willingly fits into the, by now, gaping void and everything is good for a while. As time goes by, however, the gaps around the little curves and the different shades of colour become magnified to the point at which they overshadow the perceived function of the ill fitting piece. The picture, now far from clear, is marred by a scab like aberration where the substitute scrap lies. Eventually Second Best becomes so offensive that it is unceremoniously abandoned. Otherwise decides to leave and never return.

All the while, the serene but reluctant Beau sits there, silently mocking its suitor in ignorant contempt of the space that still lingers. Shall it be revisited with all of the misery recalled such a short time previously? Or shall the fragment, a precious gem in its own right, be dispensed with permanently? The dilemma continues as long as the elegant morsel is in plain view. Finally the decision is made, get rid, ditch, out of sight out of mind and everything will be alright. The gap, like an open wound, will be a constant reminder of the fickle nature of this emotion as there is no accounting for the human frailty that is unrequited love. It lingers like last nights curry, stale and pungent, an odious cousin of the original spicy, fragrant treat.

What of the Second Best a makeshift chunk, so unceremoniously, faultlessly forsaken? Destined to play second fiddle to the likes of the blissfully unaware and uninterested Beau for ever.

I choose to love you in silence,

for in silence I find no rejection.
I choose to love you in loneliness,

for in loneliness no one owns you but me.
I choose to adore you from a distance,

for distance will shield me from pain.
I chose to kiss you in the wind,

for the wind is gentler than my lips.
I choose to hold you in my dreams,

for in my dreams you have no end.

Jalāl al-Dīn Muḥammad Rūmī…

1 Comment

  1. Ken Childs

    Beautiful but Deep.


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