You know whatās wild? Being romantically involved with someone today feels like running a marathon with a broken ankle, a maxed-out credit card, and a ghost from your past whispering in your ear. Mentally, weāre fried. Half of us are still patching up wounds that never healed right. Physically, weāre exhausted, dragging bodies that have been stretched too thin by work, by hustle, by survival. Emotionally? Forget it. Weāre carrying baggage so heavy it should come with a baggage fee, and yet we expect someone else to help us lift it when they can barely carry their own.
Financially, weāre broke. Love doesnāt just cost time and energy anymore. It costs rent, therapy, dinner dates we canāt afford, and the illusion that weāre thriving when really weāre just trying not to drown. Spiritually, weāre scattered. We donāt even share the same wavelength anymore. Weāre all tuned into different frequencies, chasing different versions of healing, of success, of peace.
And thatās the cruel joke: we want intimacy, but we donāt have the capacity. We crave connection, but weāre too busy stitching ourselves back together. We want someone to see us, but weāre terrified of being seen. So we keep colliding, messy, beautiful collisions, hoping that maybe, just maybe, someone will love us enough to carry the chaos. But the truth? Most of us canāt even carry ourselves.
