I am not a Lover

Love has always been a topic of discussion. How did we come to understand the idea of love? Two forces are at play within a person — the mind and the heart. The mind relies on logic rather than instinct, analyzing everything before taking a step, while the heart tends to follow intuition. When we feel an affection for someone, we call it love, though love itself can have many stages. Those who have walked this path shaped our understanding of love, and that’s how people perceive it. The definition varies for everyone, depending on their level of understanding.

The modern idea of love is more physical, focused on romance rather than emotions and soul connections. Those who develop feelings for each other often start spending time together. However, feelings of affection and physical attraction are often mistaken for love, which is why breakups have become so common.

There is another perspective on love that offers a completely different understanding. This form of love dissolves the lover entirely, to the point where the lover no longer exists as an individual. We’ve come to know about it through poetry and other writings. Those who reach this level of love believe it to be the only true form, while all others are seen as mere imitations. Love, in this sense, is not about prioritizing one’s own emotions, desires, or needs but those of the Beloved. It is about surrendering one’s will to the will of the Beloved.

I’ve spent some time exploring this idea, and it feels more valuable than anything the world has to offer. Though I can’t fully express these feelings in words yet, they are undeniably present. This exploration inspired me to write about the lover’s quest in the realm of love.

I am not a lover, I am not a lover.

Other things — too many to count —

bring me joy and pleasure,

besides the Beloved.

Sorrows, countless, of this world

weigh on me beyond this separation

from the Beloved.

Desires, endless, still linger within —

that I hold dear, besides the reunion

with the Beloved.

I am not a lover.

Fears and desires —

nothing more than barriers to a lover.

I Feel Fear of losing —

and what? This world, worthless.

You claim to know its value, but you do not.

Compare love to anything, and you are damned.

The only fear of a lover —

a moment without the Beloved.

I tremble at the thought of

not having more — and what?

This world.

Are these the fears of a lover?

Day after day, the weaker self

within drags me into darkness

and takes control.

Entangled in life’s fleeting affairs —

this is not a lover.

A gaze astray is a gaze doomed,

unworthy of the status

of a lover.

Content with the world —

the sign of a dead heart.

The presence of the Beloved

breathes life into the heart

of a lover.

I know I am not a lover,

but despite all my flaws and impurity,

I long to become one — a lover.

I know —

I am not a lover.