From Me to You #2

This letter—it’s a special one. It’s about love. From Me to You.

Dear  You,

I don’t know exactly who you are. Maybe you’re my younger self, trying to figure out love between late-night overthinking and half-written texts. Maybe you’re someone who’s been hurt before, wondering if love is worth the risk again. Maybe you’ve figured out what love is. Or maybe you’re just someone scrolling through, looking for words that make sense of what you’re feeling.

Whoever you are, I hope you read this with an open heart. Because love? It’s not what we were told. The definition of love in my mind was always about—two people falling for each other and wanting to spend their eternal life together. To be honest, I never believed in love. Maybe I was too logical for emotions like love. Yet, here I am, writing about it.

Maybe love still doesn’t make sense to me. Maybe it never will. But I’ve learned something along the way—love isn’t just romance, and it isn’t always forever. It’s in the way your friend remembers your favourite spot. It’s in the silly conversation you’ve with your friend that make you forget how tired you are. It’s in the place where you feel complete. Some may find it in a stranger, some may find it in a strange place. It’s in the quiet moments, the unspoken understanding, the people who stay, even when they don’t have to.

So no, I don’t think love is what they told us it was. It’s not a fairytale. It’s not some perfect, all-consuming force. It’s messy. It’s complicated. And sometimes, it’s barely noticeable until it’s gone.

But if I’ve learned anything, it’s this—love exists. Maybe not in the way we expect, but in the way we need. And maybe that’s enough.

So to you, find love—not just in another person, but in the life you live.

Until next time,

Yahya