It’s like buying a lottery ticket every Wednesday and Saturday and waiting in week after week for your numbers to come up.
When people tell you you should come out, do something different, not play the numbers this week, you decline because you’re scared that the one time that you don’t is the one time that you’ll win.
When you convey that you’re a fallback option to whip out of their back pocket on a rainy day, that they’re able to contact you and pick up where they left off without much hassle, and you continue to believe in and keep them on a pedestal no matter what, you’ve communicated the wrong things about yourself.
Having a line, knowing the line, accepting that they can’t give you what you want and having more faith and confidence in you rather than them and communicate it. Why would you remove yourself off the market, mentally and figuratively and bet on so much potential with someone who said they were going to call you? You’re better than being the person that they come back to after exhausting all other options.
I’ve also recently heard from people tying themselves up in knots waiting for someone they’ve just met to call – go out! Don’t let them ‘settle’ for you after they discover that the grass isn’t greener on the other side.
The way God created us, actions affect our feelings most.
For example, if you want to become more compassionate, thinking compassionate thoughts may be a start, but giving tzedaka (charity) will get you there.
And just as easily, it can spontaneously degenerate when the magic "just isn't there" anymore. Love is the attachment that results from deeply appreciating another's goodness. After all, most love stories don't feature a couple enraptured with each other's ethics. God created us to see ourselves as good (hence our need to either rationalize or regret our wrongdoings). Nice looks, an engaging personality, intelligence, and talent (all of which count for something) may attract you, but goodness is what moves you to love. Just focus on the good in another person (and everyone has some). I was once at an intimate concert in which the performer, a deeply spiritual person, gazed warmly at his audience and said, "I want you to know, I love you all." I smiled tolerantly and thought, "Sure." Looking back, though, I realize my cynicism was misplaced.
Erich Fromm, in his famous treatise "The Art of Loving," noted the sad consequence of this misconception: "There is hardly any activity, any enterprise, which is started with such tremendous hopes and expectations, and yet, which fails so regularly, as love." (That was back in 1956 ― chances are he'd be even more pessimistic today.) So what is love ― real, lasting love? What we value most in ourselves, we value most in others.
A few years ago, I spoke to a group of high-schoolers about the Jewish idea of love. By focusing on the good, you can love almost anyone.
" "We're choosing to love him," her mother explained, "because love is a choice." There's no better wisdom Susan's mother could have imparted to her before marriage.
The second is responsibility, responding to his or her expressed and unexpressed needs (particularly, in an adult relationship, emotional needs).
The third is respect, "the ability to see a person as he [or she] is, to be aware of his [or her] unique individuality," and, consequently, wanting that person to "grow and unfold as he [or she] is." These three components all depend upon the fourth, knowledge.
If you’re waiting around for someone, you’re waiting for your numbers to come up.