Recently, while having coffee with a friend, I came up with a theory about love and break-ups. Except the fact that the second cannot exist without the first, there is something far more interesting in how each actually makes us feel.

Let’s take love first.

How would it feel falling in love with the first person you slept with, if you would meet them tomorrow for the first time? I know, the circumstances aren’t the same now, but for sure nothing would be the same the second time around. Just think about it, what if love grows alongside us and just like most of us, keeps getting better with time? What if what makes us better at falling in love are actually the ones that got away?


Picture this: we have the beginners in love, the ones that want to fall in love with anything that moves. They are the trainees, they would settle for any kind of love without expecting anything in return.

We have the artists of love, the ones that like to fall in love just for the sake of it. They are the ones too infatuated with their bohemic lifestyle and morning reflection to actually commit to anything else in their life.

We have the nerdish ones, the ones that have read all the relationship books out there and could major in the opposite sex psychology. They are the ones that must succeed at love with any cost, and also expect to get it right from the first try.

We have the lucky ones, the ones over whom Love steps over in Love’s way to someone else, someone worthy of Love. They are the ones that bump into their soul mates on the street while looking in their cell phones.

We also have the corporate type, the ones that know exactly what they are looking for and what they have to offer – they usually end up spending their entire adulthood looking for the perfect one that never comes along.

And we have the pros. They are the ones that learned by loving, hurting, looking in the mirror, and getting back in the game. They are the ones that just keep getting better at Love.

Wherever you may fit, love hits you when you are least prepared for it, and it never feels the same way. You can feel it in a million ways.

I remember most clearly the first and the last time I fell in love. The first time, as a teenager, I fell in love with how he made me look next to him. I loved his popularity, the things he knew, his independence, his maturity, his importance and his car. All of which, associated with my self-image, left me head over heels in the palm of his hand.

In the last instance, as a pragmatic adult sick of dating, I fell in love with how he made me feel next to him. It was the kind of feeling that makes you want to hug the other person before you’ve been properly introduced to each other. This is the kind of love that makes you feel at home, from the first second you spend together. The kind you never doubt will work out, that does not leave you waiting for his call because you know it will come. It’s the kind of love that is shared.

In between these, I experienced a few other types of falling in love.

I fell in love once with a guy’s track record of dating hot women and thus I felt I deserved that recognition.

I fell in love with an IQ once, and we spent nights having endless conversations that actually lead to decent sex, but that love was more academic than anything else. I graduated magna cum laudae and moved on.

I fell in love with youth once. The kind I thought I lost forever, and was given the chance to relive next to “The one” – the young one. That was the kind of love that takes you back to college, hanging out with the most handsome guy on the campus, having sex and fun 24/7. It made me feel 21 just because everyone else though I was.

I fell in love with sex once. The kind of sex you would want to have for breakfast, lunch and dinner. The kind you think you could never get tired of. Until you actually get tired of it and your brain wants a breath of fresh air outside the bedroom.

And then we have the break-ups. Now, if you expect me to make a list of how break-ups feel, I am sorry to burst your bubble, but unlike love, break-ups feel THE SAME every fucking time.


Not that you don’t know, but there is no creativity in that feeling. Break-ups make you worthy of a drama Oscar, they literally take your breath away by making you unable to breathe after hours of crying, they make you reluctant to getting out of bed in the morning, they make you question your every decision in life and they are the best at blurring your future while painting everything in 50 shades of grey.

Every fucking time, this is how break-ups feel, without exception. There is nothing poetic about them. They are predictable and boring. Nobody likes them, nobody wants them, nobody wants to talk about them and nobody wants to read about them.

So I won’t waste characters writing about them. But trust me about this one: Love is creative and hates deadlines. So, don’t rush it.

Leave a Reply