Why I’m Choosing To Unsubscribe From Love

It seems that lately, everyone wants to say “I’ve been struggling” instead of “Hello.” I like to think that the exchange of “Hi, how are you?” and “Good, thanks” is a loud, overt cry for meaningful connection. But alas, it is still not socially acceptable to have a breakdown in the middle of an overpriced cafe. Instead, we happily pay our seven dollars for a cup of coffee that will stimulate our crippling adrenals in the hope that it will make us feel something, mostly regret at having paid so much for a liquid beverage that doesn’t fix any of our problems and only creates more, like the panicked anxiety of finding the closest bathroom. And yet, we will be back there tomorrow morning, wondering why it feels like Groundhog Day.

I write all of this as I lie alone in my bed, really pondering if I should bother trying to figure out if I have a preferred side of the bed in case someone wants to stick around long enough to have such a beautifully painful, boring conversation, or if I should just continue making the well-loved chasm in the middle that has its own kind of love.

It is now a fact that it is becoming harder and harder to create meaningful romantic relationships in this age. It doesn’t matter how good your intentions are; with so many choices available, why would anyone stick around to see if you are worth the investment?

I understand. It’s challenging. It’s just so heartbreaking every time. Every great date and then nothing. You spend your spare hours wondering what’s wrong with you, what you can do to change. You hurt yourself more than a stranger who doesn’t really know anything about you ever could.

You go to your deepest pain, your most open wounds, and you continue to stab yourself because, in your head, the only way to get over the situation is to rip yourself to shreds and bleed out alone in the center of the bed. Yay, I love myself so much. The sarcasm in my voice is very subtle.

But after you bleed out and you are now just a shell of yourself, you have no cares left to give. You are tired of your own loneliness and you just give up. You go back to your hardened shell. You accept the idea that romantic love may not be in your future and you go back to living the life you did before. Until the cycle starts again.

I wish there was a switch in my brain that I could use to turn off romantic love. Love, I officially unsubscribe.