I have never understood how a true, fundamental, utterly genuine love can go unrequited; after all, it is nothing more than the urgent, blissful claim on another to be beautiful, rich, tall, intimate, unforgettable; the obligation that flows towards them to become something. Love is not simple, as Rilke also knew. Yet, if it is taken seriously, carefully nurtured, and preserved through difficult times, it reveals to us its most beautiful secret, for: "Once in love, once ignited, one must no longer consider oneself unhappy.".