I grew up believing that love was something soft and cinematic—in trembling confessions and last-minute chases, long before I ever understood it in real life. My mom adored those films, so I watched them before I even understood what love was supposed to feel like. But the endings stayed with me: the trembling confessions, the last-minute chases, the kiss that tied the whole story together.
And even as a kid, I remember thinking that if someone could imagine a love that beautiful, then maybe it does exist out there. Sometime between those movie marathons and the chaos of modern dating, love started feeling less like a promise and more like a myth.
Nowadays, trying to understand “love” is challenging to say the least. Dating is confusing, exhausting, and in some ways disappointing. It’s like people no longer date with the intention of discovering a connection anymore. We’ve shifted into a world where romanticism is sidelined, and sex is prioritized over all else, making it feel less genuine.
What happened?
To the effort?
To the grand gestures?
To the magic we were told would never fade?
We went from someone holding a boombox outside your window to show their devotion to “I’m not really looking for anything serious right now.”
As much as physical connection can be fun, it often leaves people stuck in cycles that feel empty: situationships, unrequited love, mixed signals, and desperation. It makes me wonder—if people enjoy casualness so much, why do they always search for more? Why isn’t the “thrill” enough?
That “more” is love.
No matter how loudly people exclaim that they don’t need anyone, no matter how much they claim romance is dead or that they’re “better off alone,” the truth is simple: we still yearn for love.
Because real love is built from understanding, belonging, and vulnerability. It demands honesty. It requires us to show up as ourselves—raw, open, and unguarded. And that is terrifying. That is why people run. Not because they don’t believe in love, but because they believe in it so deeply that the possibility of losing it feels unbearable. I’m no different.
Every time I convince myself I’m done dating, I still catch myself watching couple TikTok’s whispering “must be nice” or “one day that will be me.” I joke about “respecting the single community,” but the truth is, I want love too.
What I’m really hiding is fear—of being vulnerable with the wrong person, of getting attached, of giving someone access to the tender parts of me only for it to go nowhere. That fear pushes so many people into situations that are easier, lighter, and less emotional—because it feels safer than risking real heartbreak. But all that fear, all that avoidance, all of that pretending… it proves something beautiful: We still believe in love.
We believe in it so much that we’re terrified of it.
Scared it will change us.
Scared it will leave us.
Scared it won’t pick us back.
Beneath all of that, the yearning remains.
So, remember, there are people out there who still want love that is full, soft, messy, passionate, and real. The kind that explores us romantically, sexually, and emotionally, revealing parts of ourselves we haven’t even met yet. Somewhere out there, love still exists—tender enough to soften us yet strong enough to change us. And one day, it will find us in a way that makes every doubt and every heartbreak feel worth it.
Because even now, even after everything, we still believe in love, and love hasn’t forgotten us either.