Unfortunately, I just don’t care that much about love anymore.
Can you retire from being a hopeless romantic? To shove the rom-coms
into a hidden box under the bed, only to be rediscovered out of the depths of
darkness during particularly lonely periods? My beliefs surrounding romantic
love seem to get more complicated as I get older, morphing into something new
as each year comes. Can it truly be found, by me, in my lifetime? Let’s be
realistic, Harry probably cheats on Sally, and William and Anna must have brutal
arguments around the atmospheric streets of Notting Hill until one of them storms
off alone into the nearest dimly lit Café. I admit, maybe that’s harsh, and
merely a projection of my current bitter view of love.
The truth is that I
adore a good love story, but the difference now is that I find it increasing
difficult to believe in them. What if relationships, to me, really are just a
cycle of hurt, in some way or another? Where I used to enjoy overhearing two friends,
trying to discretely untangle all the unnecessary, but somehow totally necessarily, details about their budding love
interests in the corner’s of quiet coffee shops, now I just sigh. I’m not sure
if its jealousy, or that ever-growing bitterness, but it’s something I can’t
relate to. Now, I just feel a sort of bitter detachment. It’s just not a world I’m
part of. People don’t fall for me, and if they do, it doesn’t last. I wish this
was an oblivious exercise in self-loathing, but it’s unfortunately the truth. I
stare at anyone recounting the time they met the love of their life during the
first weeks of university in disbelief. I went on a few Tinder dates, got
ignored on WhatsApp and had to awkwardly make eye contact with people in
lectures, trying to pretend that I hadn’t drunkenly kissed them a few weeks
before. How can some people get granted so much romantic love that they don’t
know what to do with it, and others receive barely any? What does it even mean
to be romantically ‘loved’? Do I really want to be telling my friends about how
many people are interested in me because I want to find love, or do I just want
to feel attractive and desired?
Maybe I have deep rooted issues
with dynamic that love can create, I never want to prioritise maintaining a relationship
with somebody else over my mental wellbeing. If someone makes me question my
worth, I’ll end it. Does that make me weak, or strong? Who knows. Maybe
I haven’t given up completely, and soon I’ll pick up my Picador book of Love
Poetry, or watch one of the countless rom-coms on Netflix and start blissfully picturing
my perfect vision of love once more. But right now, I’ll be happy surrounded by
my friends and family, trying to focus on myself. This time I won’t see single
as a long, lonely step before finding ‘the one’, but just a state of being. There
are so many other forms of love that I experience everyday, I’m sure that the
romantic kind can wait.
CONTINUE READING
