Your words reveal a soul in great affliction, but let us honestly examine the root of this pain. You say you want his love, his affection, his constant attention, his promise of marriage. You want him never to leave you. But notice how your desire is a chain of demands, a grasping after what another may not be willing or able to give. This is not the patience of love, but the fever of jealousy, and that jealousy is born from a vehement affection that has become disordered. It makes the beloved into an idol, and when that idol withdraws, your whole world falls into chaos. So the home is turned upside down, and even the sunlight becomes an offense, for the heart finds everything intolerable when its one desire is thwarted.
True love, the kind that imitates Christ, does not operate by menaces, or by desperate clinging, or by demanding a return. It gives, and gives without upbraiding even when suffering. Yet you are trying to chain this man to you with fear or with the heavy weight of your need, treating the partner of your heart as though he were a servant whose presence you can command. But what sort of union is that, where one trembles or retreats from the other’s insatiable demands? Real affection is not born from such bondage.
Consider the Apostle Paul. He burned with a great longing to be with his brethren in Rome, and he prayed constantly to be allowed to see them. Yet when his prayer was delayed, he did not repine; when it was even denied, he gave thanks. He loved them with an intense love, but he loved much more the will of God. He had given himself up to the all-governing Hand, as clay under the potter, and would not go where God did not lead. His longing was mingled with the fear of God, and that is true love. Your love, however, seems to err on both sides: either you will love no one with such abandon, or when you do love, you love contrary to what seems good to God, insisting on your own schedule and your own fulfillment even when Heaven ordains a different path.
Christ Himself, on the Cross, committed His mother to the beloved disciple, showing all care and affection, yet He did not cling to her presence or demand her comfort. He submits all to the Father’s plan. So you must learn to rivet your thoughts not on this man’s returning affection, but on God. The soul that cleaves to the Lord, that thirsts for Him above all, is like a tree with deep roots. The violent storms of another person’s distance, of his silence and withdrawal, may shake the branches, but they cannot uproot the tree. Your current state, however, is a tree set lightly in the ground, so that a small gust of his indifference tears you apart.
Therefore, the prayer needed is not merely that he return, but that your own soul be healed and rightly ordered. Pray that you may love as you ought, without idols, and that you may desire nothing contrary to what seems good to God. Let your supplication be, “Lord, if it be Your will, restore this bond and lead us to a holy marriage, but above all, fix my flesh in Your fear. Give me a love that is not a frantic demand, but a patient gift. Teach me to bear even this ache with cheerfulness, and to prefer Your presence to any human affection. Let me not seek to hold him by my own strength, but entrust all to Your governance, for better are Your delays than my own shortcuts.” If you thus yield to the Divine hand, you will find that what once seemed unbearable becomes tolerable, and His peace will be your anchor, whether this man calls or never calls again.