I think something dies every time a relationship ends.
So we are all surrounded by dead things
I don’t believe that love ends.
It just moves.
Sometimes to a place we can never get to again.
I used to think I was born in the wrong century.
But as a black woman, any century including this one would not have great romantic prospects for me.
Still, the grass really is greener on the other side.
From here anyway.
I do not actually believe in romance.
It feels like the fairy tales we tell our children to help them sleep.
To make them feel safe.
But candles are just candles.
Flowers just flowers.
Chivalry dead, or offensive, it’s up to you.
I am not now, nor will I ever be, the most desired.
I am either learning that, convincing myself of it, both or neither.
It doesn’t really matter when you’re lying in your bed for the 2,150,245th time staring at the ceiling, completely by yourself.
Loneliness is a concept and that’s no comfort.
Everything is a concept.
We have conceptualised everything.
Language and sound and sight and even love.
If I reject the concept then does it no longer exist?
There is no lonely
There is no love
There is no me
There is no you
Whoever you are.
I believe that if I check my phone enough, eventually that special someone who does not exist
Will call/ text/ email/ send me an emoji
To solve all my problems.
I am not as complex as everyone who views my online dating profile and then moves on, thinks I am.
I hope these words move someone.
The people who know what it’s like to love and be loved.
The people who vehemently disagree with me.
The people who don’t know how lucky they are.
But especially the people that do.