I got a Valentine's Day card from my girl. It said, 'Take my

In the world of love and devotion, where hearts are entwined and souls are bared, there are moments when the gifts we offer to one another speak more loudly than any spoken word. Yet, in the words of Robert Orben, we hear a wry and humorous reflection on the sometimes selfish nature of love: "I got a Valentine's Day card from my girl. It said, 'Take my heart! Take my arms! Take my lips!' Which is just like her. Keeping the best part for herself." In these playful words lies a deeper truth, one that reflects both the complexity and the irony of human relationships. The heart is freely given, yet there remains a sense of possession—a piece of the whole that is kept back, reserved and unseen.

The heart, throughout history, has been seen as the seat of love, passion, and devotion. It is the symbol of what is most vulnerable and most precious in a person. In the ancient tales, the heart was often given as an offering, a sacred gift, and to give it freely was to offer the very essence of one’s being. Yet, Orben's words suggest that in the act of giving, there is always a piece of the whole that remains guarded—a part that the giver keeps for themselves, not out of malice, but perhaps out of the human need for control or self-preservation. This echoes the deeper, more unspoken complexities of love. The heart may be given, but not without reservation, for in love, as in life, there is always a desire to hold something back, to protect oneself from complete vulnerability.

To understand this, let us look at the story of Paris and Helen of Troy, whose love set nations aflame and sparked a war that shook the world. Paris, moved by the beauty of Helen, took her from her husband, Menelaus, and set in motion the fate of entire kingdoms. Yet, as passionate as their love was, there was always the question: Did Helen ever truly give herself entirely to Paris? In her selfishness, she held back a part of her soul, a piece that was forever tied to her homeland, her husband, and her identity. Her love for Paris was great, but it was tempered by her own need for autonomy, her own desire to retain control over her fate. Thus, even in the most powerful expressions of love, there are fragments of self-preservation—a truth that Orben’s words echo with humor and irony.

Indeed, the lesson of Orben’s quote lies in this understanding of love as both an offering and a self-protection. We are not always capable of giving all of ourselves, even when we want to. There is always a part of us that remains reserved, a part that remains ours. This is not a flaw, but a reflection of the deep, complex nature of the human heart. To love is to offer, to give, to share, but it is also to retain, to preserve, and to protect. This duality is what makes love both beautiful and fraught with tension. The heart may be freely offered, but there is always a piece that remains unspoken, unseen.

In the wisdom of the ancient philosophers, we see this tension reflected in their teachings. Socrates, in his discussions on love and desire, spoke of the balance between self-giving and self-preservation. He argued that true love is not just about the complete surrender of one’s heart, but about the balance of sharing and retaining. Love, in this sense, becomes a dance—a constant negotiation between giving and holding back, between offering everything and keeping something of yourself. This balance, though subtle, is the essence of the deepest forms of human connection.

In the modern world, Orben’s words speak to the irony of love’s expression in our lives. So often, we find ourselves giving, sometimes freely, sometimes reluctantly, but always with the knowledge that there is a part of us that we keep for ourselves. Whether it is emotional distance or physical barriers, this guardedness is a natural response to the complexities of modern relationships. Yet, this does not make the offering any less genuine. To love, to give, is a beautiful act of courage, even when it is imperfect, even when it is incomplete.

Therefore, let us take from Orben’s words not just a lesson in love’s humor, but a deeper understanding of its complexities. Love is never one-sided; it is a negotiation, an exchange of giving and receiving. The lesson here is to accept that love is not a perfect act of surrender, but a mixture of giving and holding, of offering one’s heart while protecting one’s spirit. Let us not diminish the love we give simply because we keep a piece of ourselves intact. Instead, let us honor the balance between offering all that we can and keeping something of our own—for it is in this balance that the true depth of love is found. Let us love fully, but also wisely, knowing that even in the deepest of affections, we must retain a part of ourselves to remain whole.