Unrequited love is by definition not requited, that is, not returned, not mutual. Unrequited love cannot be mutual, but must be one sided.
Much of what is called unrequited love is not true love, but the same can be said for that love which is requited. True Love in no way has to be mutual.
True Love is not about a feeling, although powerful feelings may accompany and derive from it. It is not emotional, but devotional. Love is the act of the free will (the whole will, not merely its conscious aspects, although they are an essential part) reorienting itself and binding itself to place the good of another above the self. Love will not try to force or manipulate the beloved into requiting, but will continue on just the same. The duty it imparts to serve the well-being of the beloved does not diminish though the privilege of doing so in the preferred manner be denied.
I met my first love 11 years ago. There felt a very special connection from the beginning, but it would take 2 to 3 years before I had come to know her well enough for it to be actual love. The point by which I would say it was certain was when I had a certain dream which I have mentioned here before.
When I think of happiness I hearken back to a certain dream I had when I was 14. This began as my worst nightmare, and some might say it didn't get better but I consider it to have culminated with the happiest moment of my live. It started at some random chaotic party, where I caught sight of my first love leaving in tears and to the derision of everyone else there. Asking what had happened, I learned that at the last similar event she had been drugged, date raped, and impregnated. Inexplicably everyone blamed her for it and found it amusing rather that pitiable, including all her so called friends and family. In my outrage I started to wake up, but forced myself to return in a state of semi-lucid dreaming to make things right. Things skipped ahead to a point a month or so later, a couple nights after I had married her, and been abandoned my everyone I knew for doing so. We were in a tiny and ill furnished apartment, which more a striking resemblance to my closet (which I think I saw as I briefly opened my eyes before drifting back to sleep). I had just come back from one of the several full time and demeaning jobs performing menial labor (having dropped out of high school and given up hope of further education in order to care for her and the child I was determined to raise as if my own), just in time to tuck her in to that tiny cot and kiss her on the forehead as she drifted to sleep. I knew that being allowed to kiss her brow was the most affection she had ever shown me and that there was little hope of this changing, but that did not matter. As I closed the door behind me and lay down on the bare concrete floor in front of the threshold to guard it, I was overcome by the stress and fears about how I could possibly make things better for her, but that was eclipsed by the greater overwhelming joy of the privilege of giving my life the purpose of serving her to the best of my ability. When I woke up I knew I was not meant to ever have a romantic relationship with her but was determined to be the best friend to her as possible. (Unfortunately was not until earlier this year that I really got the opportunity to form a real friendship with her though.)
I did not do a very good job when I first really tried to express myself to her. There came a point when I got up the confidence and was quite comfortable telling her how much I cared for her and that I would gladly accept friendship rather than romance, but then things got really awkward as she got back with an old boyfriend before the next time I saw her. A month after that her family moved to a different church, as I did not think I would ever see her again. Four months after that I reached the point where I decided to call her up looking more for closure than a relationship of any type. I called her house once a day from Sunday to Thursday of one week, as she was not there until the last time. By then I had given up on speaking to her personally and was really calling to apologize to her family for the disturbance and express what I could to whoever picked up to pass on to her. I was rather shocked when she answered, and may have pushed to hard for a firm rejection as it was closure I was seeking. She was empathizing a lot with me and I with her, which seemed to multiply emotions ad infinitum and destroy my composure. Once the time I regained my composure and apologized I noticed that my cellphone battery had died and I had no idea at which point the connection had been lost. When her boyfriend called up the ext day he insisted I apologize but would not permit any words out of my mouth besides "I'm sorry," no explanation of any sort. I could hear her crying in the background, and he made me promise never to call the number again. It was close to 2 more years before I found her on facebook and sent her an apology, which she accepted, but I did not think it good enough and did not really dare further contact for a while. My next message to her, and the regular contact that resulted, did not occur until this February. Although I've only seen her in person twice in the past 5 1/2 years we now talk frequently and I consider her my best friend. I still love her deeply, but now more like a sister than a romantic interest. (Probably the most intensely I've experienced love while away were during a couple conversations this spring when I got upset with her. Love is most apparently at those times when you don't really like someone but care deeply for their good nonetheless.)
