Song; Endless
She used to think love was something that could be used up.
Spent on the wrong people.
Drained by effort.
Exhausted by disappointment.
By the time she reached the end of a long day, she believed she had nothing left to give.
One evening, after a difficult conversation, she sat quietly on the edge of the bed. Her chest felt sore. Her thoughts were blunt and tired.
I can’t do this anymore.
Instead of fixing the feeling, she stayed with it.
Not heroically.
Not patiently.
Just honestly.
She noticed that beneath the fatigue there was something steady. Not warmth. Not kindness. Something simpler.
Allowance.
The body allowed the ache.
The breath allowed the heaviness.
Awareness allowed the thought I can’t without arguing back.
She waited for collapse.
It didn’t come.
What surprised her most was this:
nothing was being given.
There was no effortful love flowing outward.
No resource being depleted.
There was just an openness that didn’t close when experience turned uncomfortable.
Later, when someone needed her, she noticed the same thing. She didn’t summon love. She didn’t manufacture care.
She simply didn’t block what was already present.
And it was enough.
She realised then that love didn’t feel endless because it was infinite in quantity.
It felt endless because it wasn’t a substance at all.
It was a way of not resisting.
INVESTIGATION — “What Makes Love Endless?”
This investigation isn’t about feeling loving.
It’s about noticing what remains when effort drops.
1. Look for where love seems to run out
Recall a moment when you thought:
“I have nothing left”
“I can’t give anymore”
“I’m empty”
Now ask:
What exactly was depleted?
Was it:
emotional energy?
patience?
enthusiasm?
Or was it the ability to tolerate what was present?
2. Separate love from emotion
Emotions fluctuate:
warmth comes and goes
affection rises and falls
closeness shifts
Ask:
When those emotions fade, is experience still allowed?
If yes, something deeper is operating.
3. Notice the role of resistance
Love seems to end where resistance begins.
Check:
tightening
withdrawal
self-protection
demand for change
Ask:
What happens if I don’t resist this moment?
Often, openness returns without effort.
4. See how love doesn’t require a giver
Look closely:
Is there actually someone producing love?
Or is there:
presence
attention
allowance
space
These don’t exhaust.
They don’t belong to anyone.
5. The quiet recognition
Love feels endless because it isn’t spent.
It’s rediscovered each time resistance softens.
Not heroic.
Not dramatic.
Just available.