The world is experiencing a loneliness pandemic. We never truly recovered from the way COVID-19 disrupted our way of life. Our hearts long for connections that enrich our souls, whether platonic, communal or romantic. Additionally, we are witnessing a steep decline in the quality of life on Earth. Our mental and emotional well-being have never been more at stake. We are forced to harden, hide and dismiss our feelings for whatever reasons. We are scared of love: the butterflies, the falling, the letting go, the intensity, the communion, the crash, the heartbreak.
In recent events, we have seen a pushback to this fear. People want to love and be loved again. More conversations are taking over social media platforms. Everyone is tired of the “fake” (read curated) idolised influencer relationships. They want the real thing — even if it’s just a taste. They want someone’s soul to yearn for theirs and vice versa. They want chemistry, ballads, fireworks, boomboxes, longing looks — the whole works!
Still in doubt? Just check out the conversations from Lamy’s tweet:
As someone who identifies as a real lover, I was moved by everyone’s takes on the fundamental requirement to be a #reallover. The reactions were genuine and unique — they reflected the best part of humanity. All living beings are capable of expressing love, but only humans are blessed with the gift of individuality. Our love is dynamic. No two lovers are the same, and no one’s love takes the same form.
Although, it’s comforting that there are similarities in the way we express our love. I am a writer, so words would always be my default. As early as I remember, I sent love letters to my childhood crushes. I read so many Harlequin novels in secondary school for entertainment and research. I was on a mission to build my vocabulary and, one day, write my own romance novel. It wasn’t until university that I considered poetry as a medium. French literature has an allure that tickles the corners of imagination. There are a million possibilities for self-expression, so why limit oneself to the règles classique of rhyming schemes and stanza types?
So, I indulged. I wrote whenever I felt something — the delusion of a crush, the sting of rejection, the rush of lust, the euphoria of a wet dream, the thrill of an orgasm, the yearning for companionship, the blues of loneliness, the woes of heartbreak, the uncertainty of my heart. Over the course of five years, I amassed quite a collection of memories in the form of verses and paragraphs.
Real Lovers share their love with the universe, not wanting anything in return.
The Lovers’ Week is my way of honouring real lovers. It is a curated collection featuring some of my rawest and most intimate pieces, straight from the archives. It is dedicated to every soul out there who yearns for love in its purest form.
From February 11th to 17th of 2024, I will share a piece. Check out the collection below:
