The Empty Jar

The Empty Jar

Love is not a spark.
Love is a fluid.
Each human is born with a jar inside the chest,
quietly filled with the capacity to feel, to attach, to hope, to give.
When we love someone,
we pour from that jar.
When we are betrayed,
a crack appears.
When we lose someone,
a slow leak begins.
When we keep loving without being held in return,
the fluid drains silently.
At first, we do not notice.
The jar still feels heavy.
The heart still beats with expectation.
But with time,
love given to many faces,
many names,
many versions of “almost”
slowly lowers the level.
Not because love is weak.
But because giving without receiving reshapes the vessel.

There comes a stage.
People arrive.
They show kindness.
They offer warmth.
They speak gently.
Objectively, they are good.
Yet inside…
Nothing moves.
No rise.
No fall.
No trembling.
No rush.
Only stillness.
Not peaceful stillness.
Hollow stillness.
The jar is not broken.
The jar is empty.

This is not cruelty.
This is not arrogance.
This is not coldness.
This is emotional exhaustion.
It is the soul saying:
“I have poured myself too many times.”

The tragedy is not that love ended.
The tragedy is that the person who once overflowed
now doubts whether love even exists.
They look normal.
They smile.
They function.
But inside, they carry a desert where a river once flowed.

And the most painful truth:
No new person can refill that jar.
Not because they are insufficient.
But because external love cannot heal internal depletion.
Only one thing can slowly restore the fluid:
Turning inward.
Rest.
Self-compassion.
Non-attachment.
Time without expectation.
Silence without bargaining.

Eventually, something strange happens.
The jar does not refill the old way.
It changes shape.
It becomes smaller.
But purer.
No longer designed for endless pouring.
Designed for selective giving.
Not everyone gets access.
Not every smile earns a share.
Not every attraction becomes attachment.

This is not becoming heartless.
This is becoming aware.
You no longer love blindly.
You love consciously.
You no longer pour to be loved.
You pour because love already exists inside you.
And that…
is a higher form of love.