Love has not disappeared from contemporary life; it has quietly changed its posture. What once unfolded as a single, slow-moving story β marked by patience, pauses and the promise of resolution β is now more often lived as a sequence of trials. Relationships begin, collapse and begin again. Every new start carries traces of the last one, an unspoken fatigue lingering beneath the surface.
The pain does not necessarily intensify; it thins out. Eventually, people stop crying β not because they have healed, but because something inside them seems to have run dry. They are not at peace; they are simply worn-out.
This weariness is not merely personal. It belongs to the emotional climate of the time we inhabit. Connection is still possible, but permanence is no longer assumed. Affection remains desirable, yet the uncertainty and incompleteness that inevitably accompany it are increasingly perceived as intolerable. Intimacy is welcomed only as long as it feels smooth and manageable. Once it demands patience or endurance, it begins to feel like too much trouble β something best avoided.
Where relationships once shaped the rhythm of everyday life, they are now pushed into
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