Defining what a relationship should be—or what it shouldn’t—can feel incredibly complex, can’t it? Yet, through the lens of Physics, human relationships become surprisingly straightforward.
Think of it this way: Do you see someone resonating with your energy waves (illustrated here)? Feeling your highs and lows—angry when you’re angry, sad when you’re sad? Perfect—you’re in a relationship. Or do you see someone complementing your emotional spikes instead? Calming you when you’re angry, uplifting you when you’re sad? That too, is a relationship and a fantastic one. But what about someone who remains entirely unaffected by your emotions, neither resonating nor responding? In the physics of human interaction, you likely don’t share a relationship with that person.
Now, introduce behavioral and social sciences into the equation, and relationships gain new dimensions. Names are assigned—friend, parent, spouse, mentor—and with each named bond comes a set of expectations. These expectations create subtle gaps in one’s emotional energy, gaps that we instinctively seek to fill through the actions, influence, or presence of the other. When these expectations are met, the relationship thrives. But when they aren’t, an invisible “debt” is incurred—a debt that accumulates over time, often without clear acknowledgment. And perhaps, this unrecognized emotional debt is the most intricate and least understood aspect of human relationships.
In the following stories, we’ll explore the nature of relationships, the absence of them, and the deeper nuances that lie beyond.
The Story of a One-Sided Relationship
Aarav had spent years quietly orbiting Maya, convinced that one day she would notice him the way he noticed her. He memorized the little things—how she tucked her hair behind her ear when she was deep in thought, how her laughter had an effortless charm. She wasn’t just a person to him; she was an idea, a future. In his mind, their connection was undeniable, even if, in reality, she was only vaguely aware of his presence. He told himself that if he waited long enough, if he made himself indispensable in her world, she would eventually see him.
But time passed, and Maya remained distant. They spoke occasionally, brief exchanges that left Aarav grasping for meaning. He convinced himself that she was just reserved, that she wasn’t the kind of person to express interest so easily. Then, at a party, he finally worked up the nerve to have a real conversation with her. He mentioned a book she had once carried around, hoping to spark something deeper. She barely looked up from her drink, offering a distracted, "Oh, yeah, that was ages ago," before turning to someone else. And later that night, he saw her—laughing, engaged, completely present—with someone else.
The weight of that moment settled over him in the weeks that followed. He replayed every interaction, every imagined moment of connection, and for the first time, he saw things as they were. Maya hadn’t been leading him on. She hadn’t even been dismissive. She had simply never been part of the world he had built in his mind. That world was his alone—crafted out of his own longings, his own unspoken desires for the life he wished he had. It wasn’t Maya he had loved; it was the idea of the person he could be with by his side.
That realization didn’t bring immediate change. It was a slow, painful process—years of unlearning the habit of living in imagined futures. Aarav threw himself into his own growth, not out of some grand epiphany, but out of necessity. He travelled, found passions outside of his infatuations, built friendships that weren’t tethered to longing. He learned to see himself not as someone waiting to be chosen, but as someone with his own story to write. And one day—years later—when he met someone new, it was different. There was no pedestal, no projection, just two people meeting as they were. And this time, the connection was real.
A one-sided unacknowledged relationship is often not with another person, but with an envisioned version of oneself in the future. If approached with clarity and purpose, this connection can serve as a catalyst for personal growth, offering the same upliftment that a meaningful relationship brings to life.
The Story of a Strained Relationship
When Aarav and Meera had first met, everything about each other had felt like a discovery. Meera adored Aarav’s confidence, the way he spoke with authority in a room full of people. His decisive nature, once so attractive, had made her feel safe, like she could lean on him. Aarav, in turn, was drawn to Meera’s emotional depth—how she felt things so intensely and expressed them freely. He would often tell her how refreshing it was to be with someone so alive, so open with her emotions.
Years passed. Marriage, children, responsibilities—they all settled in, and so did a growing exhaustion. The very things that once felt magnetic now felt heavy. Aarav’s decisiveness, which had once given Meera a sense of security, now felt rigid, dismissive. When he made quick decisions about their home, their children, their plans, without asking her, it felt like he was shutting her out. "You never listen," she would say, and he would roll his eyes, thinking, I’m just trying to keep things efficient. Meanwhile, Meera’s deep emotions, the same ones that once fascinated Aarav, now felt overwhelming. Her need to discuss feelings, to analyse every unspoken tension between them, made him feel drained. He used to admire her expressive nature, but now he just wanted a moment of quiet.
Even the small things had changed. The way Aarav would come home, loosen his tie, and drop his bag at the door used to make Meera smile—it was a reminder of his hard work. Now, all she saw was the mess. The way Meera used to dramatically sigh and collapse onto the couch after a long day had once seemed charming to Aarav. Now, it irritated him—he felt like she was making everything a scene, always demanding attention. Compliments had disappeared. He used to tell her she was beautiful when she laughed; now, he barely looked up from his phone. She used to praise his patience with the kids; now, she only pointed out what he did wrong.
One evening, after yet another argument that led nowhere, silence stretched between them. In that silence, something shifted. Aarav looked at Meera—not as his wife of so many years, but as a person, tired, just like him. And Meera saw the same in him. They weren’t enemies. They were two people who had forgotten how to exist without expecting something from the other every moment. The weight of constant proximity had turned their energies from complementary to entangled, suffocating rather than sustaining.
Slowly, they began making small changes. Aarav started listening instead of fixing, realizing that not every problem needed a solution—sometimes, Meera just wanted to be heard. Meera, in turn, started giving Aarav space instead of pressing him to talk on her timeline. They started complimenting again, not with grand gestures but with quiet appreciation—a simple "You handled that well" or "I love how you do that for the kids." These subtle affirmations rekindled warmth between them.
They realized that long-term togetherness wasn’t about constantly feeling the same intensity as before; it was about understanding that affection had to evolve. The energy between them could still be complementary, still be attractive, but it had to breathe. And most importantly, as long as there were no lingering unresolved tensions—no suppressed resentment or unspoken expectations—their bond could remain strong without suffocating them. They weren’t just partners navigating life together; they were individuals choosing each other, every day, in ways that had changed but never disappeared.
The debt within a relationship isn’t meant to be a burden but something to be embraced as part of the journey. It won’t lead to entanglement if acknowledged and resolved with maturity. As human energy evolves, so must the way we nurture and sustain complementary relationships, adapting to ensure balance and growth.
Relationships of apparent Debts
There exist relationships in life that apparently demand a one-sided investment—where one gives tirelessly while the other takes without much thought. A father who spends years guiding his children, sacrificing comforts to build his children’s future. A mother who nurtures her children, pouring time and energy into shaping them into strong individuals. A senior who mentors a junior, offering wisdom and opportunities without expecting much in return. Even in friendships, there are those who give endlessly—offering support, listening without judgment, and always being available—while the other takes, sometimes even without reciprocating.
From the giver’s perspective, this responsibility often feels natural, even necessary. A father gives because he believes it’s his duty, a mother sacrifices because love demands it, an elder supports a junior believing that experience must be passed down. In friendships, the giver might continue giving out of affection, habit, or even guilt. But giving without recognition or gratitude eventually leads to exhaustion. The moment the giver looks into the taker’s eyes and sees no acknowledgment—no realization of what is being done for them—that is when the giving stops. Not always out of resentment, but because human nature seeks meaning in effort. A relationship where one only gives and never receives is like paying off a debt from the past, hoping it will create a debt in the future—one that will either be repaid by the taker or passed forward to another.
From the taker’s side, this dynamic often goes unnoticed. Sometimes, circumstances force one to take more than they can give—children rely on parents, juniors lean on seniors, and people in crisis depend on friends. But as they grow, as they stabilize, a realization must dawn: every relationship demands balance. What cannot be given back materially must be returned in subtle forms—through respect, gratitude, and service. A child may not immediately repay a parent in wealth, but a simple acknowledgment, a word of appreciation, or carrying forward their values is enough. A junior may never fully compensate a mentor, but showing diligence, respect, and carrying forward the kindness they received keeps the balance intact. A friend who has received must eventually give—not necessarily in the same way, but in ways that make the giver feel valued.
A relationship that lacks balance is like a tree that only provides shade but is never watered—it will eventually wither. The longevity of any bond depends on this equilibrium. If one takes, they must give, even if in a different form. If one gives, they must also allow themselves to receive. Only then can relationships remain strong, not as burdens but as shared journeys where both sides contribute to keeping the bond alive.
The non-relationships
In the realm of human relationships, even the most advanced sciences fall short of fully grasping the complexities that unfold in the real world—the intricacies of strained bonds, relationships tainted by selfish motives, deceptive connections, and broken ties. To preserve the sanctity of true relationships, we categorize these as non-relationships. Understanding and navigating non-relationships requires mastering the art of managing situations.
But that is a story for another time—a tale that redefines the way we perceive challenges, viewing situations as the true adversaries and all involved individuals as mere players, rather than labelling them as relationships. If you would like to delve into such stories, please explore Battle of Finding Self Worth and The Story of Coherent Identity.
Relationship & beyond
The human energy self transcends life (illustrated here), and since relationships are deeply intertwined with this energy, they too can extend beyond a single lifetime—though in different ways.
Some relationships leave behind unresolved expectations, unfulfilled promises, or deep entanglements. When these unresolved matters linger in the energy field, they are likely to carry over into the next life, manifesting in some form until they find closure. Similarly, if a relationship involves unpaid debts, the two individuals may reconnect in another lifetime—perhaps in a different dynamic—to settle what remains unfinished.
Now, consider a relationship free of unresolved conflicts, where both individuals have supported each other’s personal growth, complemented each other’s energies, and resonated when needed. If such a bond has been nurtured with mutual success and a shared aspiration, it may transcend into the next life—not out of obligation, but because the desire for continued growth and alignment has become a common objective within their energy selves.
Determining which relationships will transcend and which will fade is an intricate and uncertain matter. A far simpler approach is to remain fully committed and present in every relationship, offering it the respect and devotion it deserves. By consciously maintaining harmony, ensuring no debts are left unpaid, and keeping relationships in a state of mutual resolution, one can walk a path that is always aligned with refinement and higher evolution.