Love Is a Beautiful Dream, But Never Yours to Keep. Gita Says: Wake Up Before It Ends
Riya Kumari | Aug 01, 2025, 05:58 IST
( Image credit : Timeslife )
The Gita doesn’t romanticize love. Nope. It treats love like what it actually is: a beautiful illusion with an expiration date. A limited series, not a lifetime subscription. And before you start screaming, “But my grandparents were married for 52 years!” chill. That’s adorable. And rare. The Gita’s not dunking on love. It’s just saying: don’t get too attached to the dream.
You give, and you give, your time, your softness, your voice, your needs, until the only thing left of you is the shape they needed you to be. You call it devotion. You wear it like a crown. And maybe, for a while, it even feels holy. But slowly, quietly, you disappear.
He who is without attachment can truly act, not for fruits, not at the cost of the self.”
You mistake erasure for love
“Elevate yourself by your own mind; don’t degrade yourself, the mind can be both friend and enemy.”
You think: if I give them everything, they’ll stay. If I become what they need, they’ll love me back. If I make myself smaller, quieter, easier, they’ll feel safe enough to choose me. And so, you start folding. Not once. Not twice. But daily. Folding your desires behind theirs. Folding your joy beneath their comfort. Folding your dreams into silence because love, you were told, is selfless.
And to love someone is to let them win. But the truth you were never taught: Love is not about becoming less. It is about becoming more, together.
The Gita doesn’t talk about love the way movies do
“You have a right to act, but not to the fruits of your actions.”
It doesn’t promise you forever. It doesn’t hand you a checklist of what to do to keep someone. In other words: You can love them deeply. You can show up every day. You can give them your tenderness, your loyalty, your open heart. But you cannot make them stay. You cannot make them love you in return.
And you cannot lose yourself trying. Because real love, the kind that survives endings and silence, isn’t about possession. It’s about presence. It’s about truth. And truth says: no love is love if it costs you yourself.
Letting go doesn’t mean you didn’t love enough
“Of the unreal there is no existence; of the real, never ceases to be.”
Sometimes, it means you loved fully, completely, without needing to control the outcome. You saw them clearly. You held space. You prayed for their peace even when their peace didn’t include you. And that, the Gita would say, is the highest form of love:
To want their freedom more than your comfort. To love without needing to be needed. To release what you cannot keep, not because you’re weak, but because you’re wise.
So if you loved someone and stopped being seen
“One who neither rejoices at pleasant things nor laments the unpleasant, is spiritually stable and transcendent.”
If you gave everything, hoping to be chosen, If you kept choosing them while losing yourself. Please know: That wasn’t love’s failure. That was your awakening. You don’t have to disappear to be loved. You don’t have to suffer to prove your worth. You don’t have to stay just to avoid being alone. The Gita whispers: Even dreams end. But the soul that dreamt them? That goes on. Wiser. Lighter. Whole.
So let them go, if you must. Wish them well. And return, back to yourself. Because you are not someone’s home to live in and leave. You are the sky. And love is not the thing that breaks you. It’s the thing that reminds you, you were never broken.
He who is without attachment can truly act, not for fruits, not at the cost of the self.”
You mistake erasure for love
You think: if I give them everything, they’ll stay. If I become what they need, they’ll love me back. If I make myself smaller, quieter, easier, they’ll feel safe enough to choose me. And so, you start folding. Not once. Not twice. But daily. Folding your desires behind theirs. Folding your joy beneath their comfort. Folding your dreams into silence because love, you were told, is selfless.
And to love someone is to let them win. But the truth you were never taught: Love is not about becoming less. It is about becoming more, together.
The Gita doesn’t talk about love the way movies do
It doesn’t promise you forever. It doesn’t hand you a checklist of what to do to keep someone. In other words: You can love them deeply. You can show up every day. You can give them your tenderness, your loyalty, your open heart. But you cannot make them stay. You cannot make them love you in return.
And you cannot lose yourself trying. Because real love, the kind that survives endings and silence, isn’t about possession. It’s about presence. It’s about truth. And truth says: no love is love if it costs you yourself.
Letting go doesn’t mean you didn’t love enough
Sometimes, it means you loved fully, completely, without needing to control the outcome. You saw them clearly. You held space. You prayed for their peace even when their peace didn’t include you. And that, the Gita would say, is the highest form of love:
To want their freedom more than your comfort. To love without needing to be needed. To release what you cannot keep, not because you’re weak, but because you’re wise.
So if you loved someone and stopped being seen
If you gave everything, hoping to be chosen, If you kept choosing them while losing yourself. Please know: That wasn’t love’s failure. That was your awakening. You don’t have to disappear to be loved. You don’t have to suffer to prove your worth. You don’t have to stay just to avoid being alone. The Gita whispers: Even dreams end. But the soul that dreamt them? That goes on. Wiser. Lighter. Whole.
So let them go, if you must. Wish them well. And return, back to yourself. Because you are not someone’s home to live in and leave. You are the sky. And love is not the thing that breaks you. It’s the thing that reminds you, you were never broken.