teenage romantic in the modern age of 'u up?'

i think im like destined to die alone.

exhibit a: i believe in love like it’s a religion and i’m the last disciple.

 i want someone to laugh at my jokes like they’re in love with me already. i want forehead kisses and secret glances and long text messages that say nothing but mean everything.

but the second i think someone might like me back? panic. immediate. full-blown “they’re just being nice, abort mission, escape hatch NOW” vibes.

exhibit b: dating in 2025 is actually a social experiment designed to make me lose my mind

people don’t date anymore. they just talk. they text you “yo” at 1am and that’s supposed to be the foundation of something real. someone will send me a meme and if i respond in under 30 seconds, i’ve accidentally agreed to marry them in some unspoken digital contract. and if one more person ghosts me after three weeks of intense eye contact over facetime and flirting but acting like it's joke flirting i will legally change my name to “girl who doesn’t trust anyone anymore dot com.”

exhibit c: i romanticize everything and trust nothing

i daydream like it’s my job. i imagine love letters and dramatic confessions in the rain. i imagine dancing in an empty parking lot at midnight. i imagine someone looking at me like i hung the stars. and then i remember how real feelings are scary. how vulnerability feels like walking around without skin.

what if i fall harder than they do? what if i care too much? what if i let someone all the way in and they leave? what if they see every messy part of me and decide i’m too much?

i don’t want perfect. i want real. but real means risk. and risk? is terrifying.

exhibit d: i'm bi - girls are amazing rays of beautiful sunshine and we all should be bowing at their feet, guys are... vaguely slightly appealing and everyone else is just HOT.

WHAT AM I SUPPOSED TO DO WITH ANY OF THAT WHEN ME, sitting here in my converse and a cloud of hair spray so thick its single handedly contributing to the decline of the ozone layer, IS ABSOLUTELY NONE OF THAT????

conclusion: i’m a soft, romantic disaster and i’m trying my best

i want to believe that love is worth it. even when it’s scary. even when it’s modern and weird and awkward and full of typos. i want the kind of love that makes all the fear worth facing. the kind that doesn’t just tolerate my softness, but adores it.

but until then? i’m gonna keep writing poems at 1am and daydreaming in class and giggling over someone’s stupid instagram story like it’s a love confession. i’m gonna keep being the most terrified little romantic in the whole universe.

... BECAUSE EVENTUALLY IM GONNA MEET MY SOULMATE, ITS JUST TAKING A WHILE BECAUSE WHATEVER GREAT BEING IS WATCHING US LIKE A SITCOM IS A SICK SOAB