The Law of Love You Didn’t Know

Here, have a puff. I will tell you a story.

A long time ago, one fine evening, Franz Kafka was strolling through a park in Berlin. While he was fulfilling his lonesome pursuit, he saw a young girl sobbing uncontrollably.

Unable to control himself, he swiftly approached the girl and found himself by her side. When asked about the reason behind her tears, she replied that she misplaced her favourite doll in the park. This revelation put both Kafka and the little girl on a doll search party.

Despite scouring the park inch by inch — for hours — they were unable to spot the doll. Not wanting the little girl to resume crying, Kafka asked her to meet him at the same spot the next day. He promised her to look for the doll again the following day.

The next day, the search party continued with a new zeal and enthusiasm. They did end up finding something, but it wasn’t the doll. It was a letter ‘written’ by the doll for the little girl saying,

Dear friend,

Please don’t cry. I took a trip to see the world. I will write to you about my adventures. I will be back soon.

The letter satiated the girl temporarily. Her grief for losing her favourite doll didn’t overpower her, yet she longed for it to be by her side.

Sounds familiar?

Kafka didn’t stop meeting the little girl. Every time they met, Kafka read out loud the letters from the doll. Each letter talked about her adventures around the world. He found the little girl happier each time he read her the letter.

After a few days, the doll ‘returned’ back to Berlin. Kafka brought the doll along with him in their meeting and handed it to the little girl. When she touched her best friend, the little girl jumped with joy. After a moment, she realized something.

“It doesn’t look like my doll at all,” the little girl said, looking up at Kafka. Hearing her response, he handed her another letter from the doll, which he slowly read aloud. It read,

“My travels have changed me, my friend.”

A year later, Kafka passed away. Their joyous series of meetings ended.

Death is a strange feeling for the undead. It hardly affects the dead. Instead, it affects the living. The grief of losing someone you share a bond with is like none other. You do not have to be very close to them to feel the hole gaping in your heart where they used to be.

Many years after Kafka’s death, the grown-up girl found a tiny letter inside the doll. It was signed by the deceased and read:

“Everything you love will probably be lost, but in the end, love will return in another way.”

Love is a crazy emotion.

What is crazier is our need to ‘replace’ love.

When we lose someone whom we love, we continuously look for them in others. This urge wanting to be loved the same way as before makes us only human. But sometimes, when we lose a friend, we crave for another friend who could ‘replace’ them. It’s this unshakeable urge for wanting someone else to take the emptiness in our hearts where they used to be.

What is crazier is our need to ‘replace’ love.

Looking for somebody in someone else is not the same as ‘replacing’ them altogether. This is the law of love you were missing out on. If you really loved someone and they left you, it’s okay for you to look for them in someone else all the time. That is what I did when my best friend passed away. But wanting to replace them with other people? That’s not going to happen. Never.

Looking for somebody in someone else is not the same as ‘replacing’ them altogether. This is the law of love you were missing out on.

That hole in your heart where the person you loved used to be? That’s always going to be there. Your love for them would always be there — unparalleled — but it wouldn’t hurt you anymore. Over time you will find yourself surrounded by a different set of people, you would still find yourself loving again, and you would have survived just fine.

I promise.