Valentine’s season has a flair for theatrics.
Suddenly, the world is dipped in pink. Shop windows blush. Cafés lower their lights like they’re hiding a secret. Playlists swap out bass drops for love ballads. Everywhere you look, someone is whispering about “their person,” as if it’s a password to some exclusive club.
But here’s the thing, most of us already have ours. In fact, we probably have more than one. And no, I’m not talking about the slow-motion, wind-in-your-hair, airport-chase kind of love. I’m talking about the kind that unfolds at 12:43 AM on a bedroom floor, surrounded by open snack packets and unfinished assignments, when someone leans in dramatically and says, “Okay. But promise you won’t judge me.”
This love isn’t candlelit dinners or dancing in the rain with a perfectly timed soundtrack swelling in the background, but rather the kind that starts as, “So… guess what happened,” and somehow spirals into a full-scale investigative documentary. There are timelines, theories, and reenactments with questionable accents until someone inevitably says, “Wait, no, go back. What did she say exactly?”
It’s chaotic. It’s cinematic. It’s everything.
This love shows up during the long walks that begin with complaining about an assignment and end with mapping out your entire five-year plan, and your future dog’s name. It’s in the “come with me” texts that offer zero context, because the destination is irrelevant. It’s standing outside a trial room like it’s a red carpet premiere while your friend tries on the same top in three different colours, and you debate which one best matches her “future CEO aura” as if shareholders are watching. It’s planning the apartment you’ll share, the businesses you’ll launch, the lives you’ll build, even if the universe eventually takes you to different cities. In those conversations, the world feels both impossibly big and wonderfully small at the same time.
And then, the gossip sessions. Not the mean kind — never the mean kind — but rather the cinematic kind. The wide-eyed, clutch-your-heart, “Oh my god, wait — HE SAID WHAT?” kind. The kind where one sentence sends everyone into synchronized disbelief, where you lean closer, lower your voice, and suddenly the room shrinks until it’s just your little circle and the unfolding drama of someone else’s love life. It’s not even about the story, really. It’s about the ritual, the gasps, the overlapping commentary, and the chaos that feels strangely sacred.
But this rom-com has its quiet scenes too. They’re sitting next to each other doing absolutely nothing. One of you is scrolling while the other is staring into space, and there is no need to fill the silence. There’s no performance or pressure, just existing, side by side, like that’s enough.
It appears in smaller gestures as well, in the shared chargers, shared notes, and the “Did you eat?” texts. It’s about the friend who understands that “I’m fine” rarely means fine, the one who doesn’t demand explanations when you’re overwhelmed, they just hand you Diet Coke and let you untangle your thoughts
And perhaps that’s the most beautiful part, that someone has memorised you. They know your coffee order. They notice when your voice shifts half a second before you admit something matters. They know exactly which joke will pull you out of a spiral. They carry a version of you that isn’t curated or polished but is just real. This kind of love doesn’t need a spotlight to exist; it lives on in ordinary afternoons, spontaneous walks, chaotic dance breaks between serious conversations, and the quiet “text me when you reach”.
You don’t need fireworks or grand declarations shouted in the rain to prove you’re loved. Sometimes love is someone meeting your mid-rant spiral with, “I know. I get it,” and then immediately saying, “Okay, but listen to this.” It’s in the laughter, the silence, the overanalyzing, and the steady choice to stay. The kind of love that doesn’t trend for a day and disappear, but which just shows up, again and again. And honestly? If that’s not a love story, I don’t know what is.
A tiny thank you to A and S for showing me what this kind of love looks like. I love you guys.