Is Romance Dead?

From Hopeless to Hopeful.

Dating in your twenties isn’t complicated; it just asks more of you than you expect. It’s a strange, winding road, especially in the age of dating apps. Since moving to Los Angeles, I’ve met new people, tried new restaurants, and seen parts of the city I might’ve never found on my own. In that sense, it works. But sometimes, it feels less like I’m finding love and more like I’m being packaged, presented, and swiped through.

Recently, I ended things with someone I’d been seeing for over a month, a kind, easy man. There was nothing glaringly wrong, which almost made it harder. But I didn’t feel pursued. I didn’t feel chosen in an active, intentional way. Somewhere along the line, I was the one cooking dinners, filling in the spaces, carrying a kind of intimacy for somebody that hadn’t yet been earned.

And slowly, something shifted in me. I started to pull away; not just from him, but from the idea of us. I caught myself feeling above him, convincing myself I had things more figured out. (I don’t.) But the moment a relationship stops feeling equal, the moment you begin to measure instead of meet each other, it’s already unraveling.

Because there was no chase, or maybe there was, but it ended the moment we matched. And for me, that isn’t enough.

I want to be felt. I want to be considered in small but intentional ways. I want to be surprised, a little bothered, even slightly undone, not by grand gestures, but by the quiet, thoughtful ones that linger.

Like picking a flower from someone else’s yard, you think I wouldn’t remember that forever?

A handwritten letter; messy, imperfect, honest. There’s something disarming about holding someone’s thoughts in your hands, about wondering what they chose to confess.

Showing up, just because. Not announced, not planned to perfection, just close enough to be noticed. Like when you’re younger and everything feels a little more obvious, a little more brave.

Something made by hand. Time spent creating instead of consuming. Proof that someone is paying attention.

A call instead of a text. A voice, unfiltered and immediate. The kind of effort that says: I wanted to hear you, not just reach you.

I don’t think these are unreasonable things to want. I think they’re the foundation, the baseline of something that could become a great partnership.

(And I trust that the kind of love I’m looking for will meet me there.)

Love & Light,

LV.