Why I Can’t Love Like I Did in My 20s

Those days… it was all wild and messy. Like jumping straight into the ocean without even checking how deep it was. I didn’t care if I drowned — in fact, I wanted to drown in it.

Back then, if I liked someone, the rest of the world just disappeared. My heart would beat faster just seeing them walk into the room. One small glance from across the crowd, and it felt like my whole body woke up. I didn’t hold back. I didn’t think twice. I didn’t even know how to slow down.

But now… it’s different. Not worse, not better, just different. Somewhere along the way, I learned what it feels like to lose someone you’ve given everything to. So without even realising it,

I started loving in smaller sips, not big gulps like before.

In my thirties, love became slower. Softer. Comfortable, yes — but there’s also a quiet kind of sadness in it. I miss the old me sometimes… the one who’d stay up all night talking, the one who thought forever could fit inside a single summer.

Last night, I found myself remembering a man I loved years ago. We didn’t last. We weren’t even good for each other. But God, the way it felt… like we were the only two people in the whole world. I’m not sure if I’ll ever feel that exact way again.

And maybe that’s how it’s meant to be. Maybe love changes with us — from fire to embers, from lightning to candlelight. And maybe that’s fine.
Still… even now, I sometimes wonder if a part of me is still there in that storm — hair dripping wet, heart racing, twenty-something and completely unafraid.