The Last Romantic

Love — a feeling meant to flutter in your chest like butterflies, carried in those fleeting moments that sweep you gently off your feet. It’s the quiet kind of magic that rises from the heart when your eyes find that one familiar face in a sea of strangers, or the warmth of a hand held during a golden sunset walk. It’s the unfiltered laughter that erupts mid-conversation, wrapped in the comfort of someone who feels like home. At its heart, love doesn’t demand grand gestures. It lives in the little things — the pause in time, the soft glances, the silent understanding, the spark that turns an ordinary day into something unforgettable. It's what leaves you smiling for no reason long after the moment has passed. But in a world that moves so fast, that swipes left and scrolls past — do these quiet, tender moments still linger? Or are they slowly becoming pages from a romance novel we only revisit in daydreams?

In a world full of divorces and rapid dating that involves mindless scrolling through profiles and judging people for their superficial appeal, it makes me wonder if we have truly forgotten the essence of what love means. For an old-school romantic like me, love feels precious, elusive, rare — and if I’m being honest, a little lost in today’s world. Those fluttery feelings that once made the world feel brighter, the effortless conversations that flowed like poetry, and the laughter that felt like a spark of something real — all seem to have faded into the background of today’s fast-paced dating culture. In their place, we now have a revolving door of profiles, shallow exchanges, and buzzwords like "casual dating," "situationships," and even "nanoships," as Gen Z calls them.  

While digitalization is undoubtedly the new normal, the notion of building a connection from behind a screen—only to rush into physical intimacy the moment we meet—is something I struggle to understand. The art of truly getting to know someone feels lost in translation. Gone are the days of meaningful conversations that unfold slowly, with intention. Today, genuine effort is often replaced by abrupt silences and ghosting, leaving the other person in a swirl of confusion, questioning what went wrong. And when this happens time and again, it doesn’t just bruise the heart — it chips away at one’s confidence and sense of self, making love feel more like a gamble than a gift. It feels like the magic has been traded for convenience — and it leaves me wondering if we’re settling for connection-lite when what we truly crave is something deeper, something lasting.

In this fast-paced era of online dating, I often feel like an anomaly — holding on to hopes and expectations that seem out of place. While I remain true to my beliefs and continue to trust that love, in its truest and most timeless form, will find its way to me, there are moments when doubt quietly creeps in. I find myself wondering — does the kind of love I dream of still exist? The chances of discovering that old-school, soul-deep connection feel increasingly rare. And in the silence of lonely nights or the haze of thought-filled days, the fear that it might not exist at all lingers. It doesn’t stop me from hoping, but it does make the waiting a little heavier — and the yearning, just a bit deeper. I don’t know how long the wait will last, or if the kind of love I’m longing for will ever truly find me. What I do know is the wait seems to be anything but peaceful, often leaving me drained of hope and wondering if it’s time to let go of the dream altogether. Would it really be so wrong to stop waiting?

And yet, even in the face of doubt and disillusionment, a quiet voice inside me still whispers — don’t give up just yet. Because maybe, just maybe, the kind of love I’m holding out for isn’t a myth, but a rare gem that takes time to find. Perhaps it’s not about how long the wait is, but about who I’m becoming along the way — someone who still believes in softness in a hardened world, someone who sees beauty in the small moments, and someone who refuses to settle for anything less than what stirs the soul.

While I await the time and date of when or how love will find me, I’ll keep my heart open — not because it’s easy, but because I still believe in magic. And maybe that belief, however fragile, is the beginning of a love story yet to be written.