Prezly Writes

I’m 24 years old and I’ve never known love.

I grew up watching movies and TV shows where love was everywhere, expressive, romantic, something that could fall into your life and carry you away. I grew up listening to songs about love, and they carried me too. I thought it was something that naturally happened to everyone. I projected that desire onto many people, but it was never reciprocal.

What I found was something very different from love. I’ve known people who desire you and are ready to take. I’ve known people who flirt without intention. I’ve known people who say they are ready and then change their minds the moment you get close. But love, shared love, that I don’t know.

And for a long time, that made me sad.

Now it feels a little different, somewhere between resignation and sadness. I mostly feel that something has been missing from my life. Some days, I just want big arms to hold me, a chest to rest on, a soothing voice, a thoughtful gesture made just for me.

Carrying that longing is not easy, and talking about it is even harder. After a while, you start wondering if something is wrong with you. Maybe you shouldn’t feel that way. Maybe you shouldn’t even speak about it. As if desire and love become ridiculous when they come from you.

But why would it be ridiculous for me and never for others?

I’ve learned that it isn’t. Still, my voice trembles when I talk about it. There is still a part of me that feels ashamed, as if something might be wrong with me after all.

And then there’s the constant pressure, the questions: Are you single? Have you ever been with someone? Why not? Couples seem to be everywhere. People move from one relationship to another, or build long stories together. You try not to compare, but the question keeps coming back: why does it seem so easy for others?

I’m not talking about TV shows anymore. I don’t believe in them the way I used to. I know they often portray caricatures of love. I learned that the hard way.

But the reality around me still makes me wonder. Thankfully, I’ve met many people in situations similar to mine. Some have been single for years. Some all their lives. Some by choice, others not. Knowing I’m not alone in this has changed something in me.

I’ve learned to accept my life as it is, but I still carry a quiet concern: what if nothing ever changes? What if I grow so used to being alone that I can no longer imagine anything else?

I know I’m young, but when you spend part of your life dreaming about that first teenage love, the innocent one, the one that makes you discover a new part of life, and what you find instead is the harsh reality of adults who prey on you and other teenagers who reject you, you feel like you’ve missed something important, something you can never truly get back.

The more I build things on my own, the more capable and self-sufficient I feel. Sometimes I wonder if I ever truly needed someone else. But beyond achievements, I still long for warmth, someone to reassure me when I’m scared, someone beside me when I’m sad at night, or simply when I feel cold.

And the cold often catches me. When you miss something for long enough, you learn how to live while shivering.

People often say it’s better to be single nowadays. They talk about divorce, emotional burden, and how it’s better to be alone than in the wrong arms. And maybe that’s true.

Still, I want to believe that love exists. Because if we feel the need for it so deeply, then it must exist somewhere. If it exists in me, it must exist in someone else too.

I have to believe the world isn’t only black. Maybe it’s purple, calm and quiet, enough for some people. But purple alone isn’t enough for me.

Maybe it can be green like the earth and blue like the sky, with a touch of red, just for joy. And maybe one day, it will be shared.

Today, on Valentine’s Day, I just want to wish a gentle day to everyone, whether you are single or in love, still searching or already found.