Once upon a time, love was sacred.
It was precious—something exclusive to the person, to the partnership. It was a one-of-a-kind, let’s-build-our-lives-together, stick-with-each-other-through-anything kind of feeling.
It was a teenage dream, that first buzz of love we could never find again. That innocence and feeling of having something so rare, someone we could spend our daily life with, be on this journey with.
Once upon a time, it all felt so easy.
In this new day and age, love is merely a distant memory, a fable, a story to tell, but not a story to have. Now to rebound is as quick as the touch of your fingertips, one click and your replacement has been delivered. A product chosen by face alone, not by personality or values.
We are all just a quick transaction on the conveyor belt of love.
It’s so easy to find another—for a few weeks, a few months—and then move our interest to something new, exciting, different than the one we had before as a plethora of new faces appear.
Long-gone are the deep spiritual chats about our existence, how it’s us against the world, how we long to create something together—the untouchable power couple.
Now, we chop and change as we see fit. One mistake by the other person and we let them go. Another placement will do. One mistake from us and they leave. What used to be forgivable, now unforgivable. Now it’s just an excuse to leave.
We’re fishing with our rods, catching whatever may be on the other end, yet the waters have no depth.
Remember when we used to stick together for years and years on end? The world was ours—just you and I and nobody else existed. We had something only we understood. We had something that most couldn’t find. Something only our souls understood.
Where is the depth of love? Is love dead?
Fast-paced, like our food. Fast-paced, like the turnover of our hearts.
Where are the days of savouring? Where are the days of stopping and settling in, not always looking for more? Why are we so irritable? Why can’t we be satisfied? Why don’t we try anymore?
Love died as soon as a click of my finger could replace you. Love died when I didn’t need to stay around anymore to make it work because I could just find something easier. Love died when history could be erased, like it never happened—a fable, a tale, a story once told.
Golden Anniversaries are now something of a rarity. Paper anniversaries are considered an accomplishment.
Why have we become greedy with options? Where is the storied love of movie, books, and love songs? Will it ever come back in trend?
What happened to you and I against the world—us?
Now your head is turned so easily and with a swipe of your finger I can be gone. I can be replaced. You don’t need to stay and put in the work anymore because we’re not just in a sea of fishes but a vast ocean, swimming with curiosity.
What happened to love? Is love dead?
We are no longer special and sacred. No longer able to tell the world that we made it through, side by side. I can’t beg you to stay and I can’t make you see that my qualities are one of a kind because you believe there are many who could give you the same. I’m no longer a rarity but common, replaceable, one amongst many to choose from.
Who will love me like the old days? Who will cherish me and celebrate our milestones together? Who will fight for me in this hurricane of life, throwing all its obstacles toward us in the vortex? Who will stick it out with me, together?
Now it’s just me and my own sword and shield. A warrior of one. Armour for one. No more companion, no more team—facing the world alone because we’re all replaceable now. How can we not be when the turnover is so fast?
So I’ve stopped dreaming of love. It’s time to wake up. This is a new era.