My life truly began in New York. In 2017 I moved here to attend The New School, with hopes of finding a sustainable job and…well, a partner in crime. Back then, I denied my second intention, thinking it made me weak. Now, I must admit my desire and proclaim it as a strength: I arrived here as an indecisive, hopeless romantic. Here, I remain.
I have been on many failed dates, one after another. It seems each person takes a part of me with them, but the most unlucky part is that they always come back. Maybe this is my personal hell, I thought to myself, time after time. I fear I may never find a single soul in New York to ignite the fire in my soul. Sometimes I wonder if it’s a foreign fantasy. I have travelled continents upon continents and I have never felt at home—yet the New York love scene is crap. Hopeful and alone here, we remain.
Phase One: The Beginning
The first time I went on a date in New York I was certain that my charm and kindness would woo whomever, and it did. But people here are different with their intentions—to me, almost distasteful. I must admit, I am a very picky, determined human being in all aspects of my life. Maybe it’s the Libra in me. Yet everyone here is pretending to be independent but craves the American Dream all the same.
The first date was at The Museum of Sex. It went well while it lasted, yet I didn’t even reply to the did you get home safe text. It seemed all we had to talk about was sex, “what is your favorite position? Are you top or bottom?” and the list goes on. It felt as if lust powers this city and everyone in it. All I wanted to talk about was what brings me joy. All I wished I’d asked was what brings you joy?
Phase Two: Giving Up
It turned out that I am just like any other New Yorker: looking for love, overworked and disillusioned. I guess one grows weary of trying to find perfection, so they just settle. I could never dare to “just settle.” I found myself wandering on dating apps. No doubt, these apps introduced me to some special people. But never were they, let’s say, more than one date potential. Still searching for a connection, now scrolling—still amounting to a waste of time.
All I want is to feel loved and to also give love.
I decided to focus on myself for a moment.
Phase Three: Starting Again
There’s an old saying that goes, “Live in New York once before it makes you too hard.” Before I knew it, time had passed and yet I never truly found that awaited moment, felt butterflies or a spark that ignited my soul. People would always tell me, never go looking for love; but I believe if you don’t go on looking you can never truly find it. I wanted to go on looking, but school was already stressful, I was travelling the world, exploring different continents. Even while travelling I was surrounded by couples on planes, gazing not at them but out the window, hoping for that moment for myself. And boom, the cycle continued: I gave in before I’d arrived; I would be back in the game before I even knew it. Did I mention my indecision? Damn you, New York! Are people just pretending to be in relationships, beautifying the city with a semblance of love? Where can I find love that hasn’t been taken? I started dating again. I was almost certain that I found one: The One. Long story short: that one was not the one. Even people who I have known since “the beginning” still don’t share their intentions. At least now I may set boundaries and never cross them. My number one rule for finding the one now is: if they are not healed properly, abort the mission, flee to the hills; leave them to heal or your heart too will be broken. Am I heartless to think first of my heart?
Phase Three: Let Them Be
I have learned that if someone no longer wants to be in my life, I should encourage them to find love elsewhere. And allow myself to do so too. If we both want happiness, we must part ways with our hopes.
Though this is my epistle, I know we New Yorkers are together, each alone in our hope for love. Together, each alone knowing that the future is not yet now. But it is sometime soon.