Love, Unrequited.

Sitting outside on the steps of the apartment complex, a lone voice is heard at 3 in the morning. He is calm, having conversed with the stars in the peaceful night sky; now listening on the phone, where a girl's crying leaks out.

A young soul that cannot love in return is a soul in trouble indeed; but is that truly possible? Can there really be a love, unrequited in all forms? Oh, the good and the hurt that can come from such a predicament.

Love is not governed by laws like nature, how would it actually be possible to have a situation in which love continuously flows in one direction, like a stubborn stream, laboriously cutting through solid rock? This is not to say that love isn't natural; rather, it is a delicate thing, held in balance, nurtured by people. Given such resistance, love isn't as persistent as the wind that blows past him; love isn't as everlasting as the earth under him; love isn't as absolute as the fire that glows in the distance.

He comes back inside, the leak from his phone now fixed, but the question remains. If it isn't dictated by laws of, and like nature, then what controls how love is given and received? Is it not unsettling when one cannot return love and caring that one receives? Is it not so upsetting when one does not receive love in return for all that one has given? If that was the case, could love ever be unrequited? Can't love be given without expectations, without the strings of custom, under the influence of the puppeteer of social norms?

Unresolved, his mind wanders, perhaps there is no answer just yet. As the sun slowly rises, the stars go to back to sleep, and he follows suit.