Where have you been, man?

There is a particular kind of tired that has nothing to do with sleep.

It's the tired of opening a chat, seeing "typing..." and already knowing how the next two weeks will go.

I'm not writing this out of frustration.

I'm writing it because I have run out of theories.

I have tried almost everything.

One felt like a romcom, and I'm not exaggerating. There was a friend who turned into a boyfriend, the safest plot in the world, until it wasn't. There was pure attraction, the kind where you don't remember what he said, only how the room felt. There was destiny, a man from literally the other end of the world, because apparently the universe likes drama.

Then I tried opposites.

Someone who talked alottt, and I loved it for exactly one month, until I realised I hadn't spoken in any of our conversations. Someone quiet, whose silence I kept translating into meanings that probably weren't there. Someone exactly like me, which sounds dreamy until you realise two overthinkers are just a very long group discussion with no conclusion.

Someone older who had the answers. Someone younger who had the energy.

Someone with my music taste, who sent me songs at 2 am. Someone who didn't know music at all and still made me laugh harder than any playlist did.

Then the dating site.

Then a few from Instagram, because Instagram quietly turned into a dating site too.

Yes, I know how this sounds.

Before you ask about my body count, let me save you the effort: almost half of them ended in the talking stage itself.

And honestly, that's where my biggest question begins.

Who wrote these cheat codes?

Somebody made a rulebook and we all agreed to follow it. Don't open up at the beginning, it's too much. Don't express too much. Don't talk about your exes, even though they're literally part of your history.

And please don't ask "have you eaten anything?", because that will be counted as flirting.

Like seriously?

When did basic care become a strategy?

I keep thinking about how people used to date.

Our parents' generation, and the one before them, had fewer options but more intention. You met someone, you liked them, you showed up. A call on a landline meant something because you had to risk a parent picking up. A letter took days to arrive, and the waiting made you think about what you actually wanted to say.

Now everything is instant, and somehow it means less.

Someone's attention is one swipe away, so it gets treated as replaceable. There is always another profile, another chat, another "hey". When the menu is endless, nobody wants to order.

I think that's why people are so scared of commitment.

It isn't always that they can't love. Often they're afraid that the moment they choose, something better will show up. Choosing means closing doors, and we've been taught to keep every door open, just in case.

It's also why cheating seems so normal now.

People didn't suddenly become worse. It's that the temptation is permanent and the cost is low. A message is easier to send than a conversation is to have, and when it's easy to keep one foot out, many people stay only half in.

Loyalty used to be assumed. Now you have to ask for it, and even asking feels like "too much".

Somewhere along the way, we all agreed to be a little less warm so nobody gets scared.

And somehow, I'm the one who's supposed to adjust.

But I wasn't always this careful and this aware.

There was a time I was too much in love. I wrote letters. I wrote poems. I took everything to heart, every word, every pause, every late reply. My emotions were the whole relationship, and I assumed that if I felt it strongly, it must be right.

It took me a few years and a few heartbreaks to understand something.

Emotions are beautiful, but they can't be the only thing driving a relationship.

Feelings are the spark, not the engine.

You also need patience, a certain kind of patience, where you give it time before putting any label on it. A label is not a finish line.

It's like wine.

You can't open it the day it's made and expect it to taste like anything. It has to settle and become what it's going to be. If you rush it, you don't get love, you get something sour and a headache.

My idea of compatibility changed too.

I used to think it was how we look together. The photos, the chemistry, the "you two are so cute". Now I think it's how two people can live together. How they handle a boring Tuesday. How they disagree. How they treat each other when they're tired and hungry and the plan has fallen apart.

I'm not looking for a story to post.

I'm going to spend my life with this person, so I have to be sure.

There will be thick times in life, because everyone gets them. Jobs go wrong, families get complicated, and some days nothing makes sense. In those times I don't need a perfect speech.

I need someone standing right beside me.

Not three steps behind. Not waiting to see how it turns out.

I want someone with humour, because I genuinely believe humour makes life easier. A person who can make me laugh on a bad day makes the bad day smaller.

I want someone with depth too, who understands emotions and doesn't flinch when I say something real.

And I don't only want to receive.

I want to add things to his life as well. Make his world a little bigger, a little warmer, a little more fun. A good relationship isn't two people holding on to each other.

It's two people building something together.

I know the saying that to find your comfortable chair, you have to sit on a lot of chairs.

I understand the logic.

But I hate shopping, and that's my actual issue.

I walk into a store knowing exactly what I want, and the whole system is built to make me look at forty other things first. Every chair is "nice", every chair has a reason, and I'm standing there thinking, I'll know it the second I sit.

So before you all come at me with "be patient": please.

I waited 3 years for a guy I had a 3 month situationship with.

Three years.

Patience is not my problem. I could teach a class on it.

It's just that something feels off, and I can't point at what.

Is it timing?

Maybe. I do believe the universe has its own timing, more than I admit.

But baby universe, can we play my love life at 2x speed now, please?

I'll be good. I'll even skip the trailers.

And here's the part that might surprise you.

I like my solitude. I like my own company. I enjoyed being single, truly, not the "I'm fine" kind. I have my own routines, my own jokes, my own peace.

But I really want to find my lobster now.

Not because everyone around me is getting married. Not because of the family function questions.

Because I genuinely want to meet him.

The one who will ask if I've eaten, and mean only that.

So I'm sitting here, half patient, half done, and one question keeps coming back like a song I can't stop humming.

.

.

.

Where have you been, man?