Why Everyone is Losing Patience with Love

“A fine mix of unicorn blood, witches brew, and broken hearts.”

There are two priorities Millennials have nowadays. One might lead to the other, but ultimately, we choose one for the time being as we ignore the other.

In my opinion, a majority of young adults within my age bracket can willingly admit to focusing on work as a priority. Due to the competitive nature of the current economy and overall job market, putting all focus on our career is deemed as a completely sensible outlook on life. This general subsection of young adults who put work/education above all other matters have goals to keep, and there is little room to distract.

The second and most cliched priority that anyone would be embarrassed to own up to is love. I think most people secretly wish for it, but, upfront, love is a fairytale – it’s for the foolish, for the weak – and love is the only force in this world that breaks you faster than you can break yourself.

There’s nothing wrong with love. It’s beautiful and perfectly flawed. It generates dreams beyond reality with little fuel required. Scraps of hope bloom into fantasies, music, and the subjectively inevitable romance. No, there is nothing wrong with love.

The flaw and the dilemma lies within the effects of love.

Think of romance like a bottle of liquor, unopened and chilled, a crystal blue glass visage, tightly and securely sealed by a flimsy piece of metal worth no more than two pennies. That safety seal breaks at the first glance, and it might remain as such until you get curious enough to expose that liquor to the air. But who knows how long that will take? Minutes, hours, months – however long until the curiosity  burns through your fingertips.

That first charming sentence – however impactful it may be – is what opens bottles. And as the conversations take place, a shot goes down every time your heart beats a little too fast.

(Everyone holds their alcohol differently – so relate these numbers as you would to your own pace.)

The first shot burns, and the initial panic hits your stomach yet something tells you to continue. Shot number four is when you begin to laugh too easily, and number five is when the room starts to spin. By the eighth, everything slows except for your thoughts.

Even if you choose to stop sipping, the alcohol sits, blending in with your bloodstream until you don’t actually know if it’s still there or not.

Under good circumstances, the high remains until the affection is so secure you don’t need to drink anymore. You stay awake until the blur fades, and you can sleep peacefully knowing all will be well in the morning. This is the route we all wish for from the moment that seal is broken – an infinite inebriation and a sweet surrender to affection.

I don’t think it’s the most common route, and this is probably why the bottles cease to pop or cheaper, more destructive bottles are chosen.

In the more common and most plausible route, you lay down in the midst of the rumbling in your head – that only makes it worse. However it may happen, the bottle might be taken away or you choose to close it on your own with whatever strength you have – you know as you shut your eyes that the hangover is inevitable. The emptiness and the tears, the broken words and the wrong steps – the hangover can last as long as you let it until your body finally goes back to normal.

And suddenly that bottle and its taste is just another memory either to be looked at with fondness or discomfort.

It’s unfortunate that too many people experience the hangover until they can’t bear to even look at another bottle. Not enough dreamers get to live the life-long happily drunken state before being abruptly shaken awake.

The patience for those who made love a priority has worn thin. Eventually, all the dreamers of the world will return to reality.

Friends Today, Gone Tomorrow

There’s a certain stigma that changes as time goes on regarding who you’re friends with.

The friends you make in college are your friends for life.

Upon hearing something like this, you find your freshman year niche. This is your “posse.” This is the group of friends who you talk to everyday. If you meet up with one, eventually you’re all meeting up. No one is out of the loop: you go to parties together, the gossip you hear is the gossip they hear, and this is where you belong.

The friends you make in your freshman year are not the friends you’ll have in senior year.

Suddenly, things have changed. A year has gone by, and you’ve spoken to one maybe last week, the other you haven’t seen since last year, and the other happily has a boyfriend, one that you only know of through the transparency of social media. Next thing you know, your parents are asking:

“How is he doing? Have his grades gotten better?”

And honestly, the only thing you can think to say instead of lying might sound something like this:

“I wouldn’t know.”

It’s difficult to say, but the pieces of advice we hear about the friends we make is probably why Millennials are so terrified of losing their friends. They are told that now is the time when you make your life-long friends, but when those supposed life-long connections start to weather down until you can’t even remember the last time you have spoken to someone in person, that’s when the fear sets in.

Maybe it’s wrong to say things like that – things that put a time and a place to a time-subjective part of a life. I made new friends this past weekend. I made new friends last year. It really is inevitable to feel afraid to lose someone.

I learned this the hard way, but friends will and should always be at the top of your priority. I distinctly remember being told by a (now) stranger:

“I should be at the top of your priorities.

First is your parents,

Then me,

Then your friends.”

And for a moment, I thought about it. I took the next hour of silence without a reply to let his sentiment sink in because deep down, whether I verbally admitted it or not… That could not be any more untrue.

For starters, family always comes first, but family is on a completely different priority list. That list shouldn’t even include your lovers, your friends, or any other obligation. Family is family. Granted, a good portion of the world has completely forgotten the rest of the statement “Blood is thicker than water,” but still.

Most importantly, let me be clear about this.

Romance is subjective.

Romance fades.

Romantic feelings subside until you’re left being strangers once more. There are two paths for relationships:  either you get married or you break up, and that is a cold bitter truth, but it is – in fact – the truth.

But friendship is not static. I could go an entire year without talking to my best friend from tenth grade, but when I call upon her with tears because of whatever problem I have, she is there to listen, and it’s almost as if that time apart didn’t even exist.

I can make mistakes, and she’ll still be there. If I make a mistake with a lover, he could be gone tomorrow. This all brings me back to what I meant to say:

The fear of losing a friend is inevitable, but that doesn’t mean that the loss itself is inevitable.

Have faith in the real ties that bind.

Tell your friends I said hello.