“Do not give a heart I may not receive.”
But if a gift is not ignored and acknowledged by the recipient (the letter read, the present opened) how else may the givee not complete the givenness of the gift than by simply refusing it, by – after gazing at it and knowing it -- totally rejecting it as a gift, that is, to say ‘no’ to it?
The lack is not owing to anything real that is already perfectly acquired. What’s lacking is only its pure and simple acceptance: that the Trojans indeed want the horse from the Greeks… only acquiescence is lacking, the decision to receive.
To decide to accept the gift: this means to carry the gift’s weight – to re-group one’s self so as to balance the weight of the gift with the ecstatic but weightless ego; to gaze at its spectacle even if it may be too much for one’s eyes to behold; and to finally take it as one’s own – to take it to the house of hearts knowing fully well that it was always underserved, that it is but need not be.
In a word, to accept the gift is to perhaps accept the humility that gratitude brings.
The givee never asked for the gift yet it is she who decides. In turn, the beloved never asked for the gift of love (the gift of self) from the lover yet she can refuse it and reject it if she so chooses – on a whim; because something is more important: a career, an other, her self; because she could not carry the weight of the gift and the lightness of its glorious givenness; because she unable to humiliate her self with gratitude.
And all this while, the giver who is absent, waits. Not in the manner that the Greeks inside the horse waited for the dead of night to disperse and wreak havoc inside the walls of