Love is a ticking time bomb
Five months passed. A quick fleeting kiss goodbye and you were gone. Bicycle bell ringing you turned right, right in the direction of your own happiness. The colorful streets of Mexico as your destination. Here I stood, in a hot pink bathing robe, my naked feet pinned to the gray pavement. My conscious telling me ‘I knew it was temporary’ completely submerged by the heaviness of a broken heart.
Love is ever more fleeting, and not just mine. An average of 4.2 years. That’s how long millennials last in a romantic relationship according to research by statistics institute INSEE. Remarkably short compared to the relationships of older generations. Anita - my Jordanian upstairs neighbor - has been pouring a cuppa for her childhood sweetheart Hans every morning for over forty years now. Marco Borsato and Leontine were together for more than twenty-five years. The marriage of my grandparents even managed to reach the local newspaper. ‘Nico and Grada, 60th anniversary’ ran the headline of the paper above a photo showing the couple hand-in-hand in front of their vegetable garden in their owner-occupied home. The satisfied smiles on both of their faces shows that they are still happy in this diamond marriage. Will I ever be able to reach this milestone? I regard the chances virtually impossible.
Love in my generation is often bound by place and time. Research from Tinder shows that 72% of millennials consciously choose to remain single during certain periods. So did Jazz. As much as we were in love in those hundred fifty days, his aspirations to go on an adventure far away triumphed over the need to commit to me. This trip was on his bucket list and a relationship - according to him - was impossible. His decision to roam the earth as an independent individual is a logical product of society which continuously prioritizes the ‘I’. Personal development and a good amount of self-love is what our current zeitgeist, especially here in Amsterdam, is all about. The time to make your dreams come true is now and there we go. Alone. On our way to unique adventures or grand success. Suddenly too busy for a partner. Too busy for a long-distance relationship in the near future. But until the time comes, we can have fun and even love.
Love in my generation is like a ticking time bomb. A thousand pieces. The collar of my pink bathing robe, soaking wet. Was it not real love? Because the total surrender to love as my grandparents knew it was missing. Only time can tell: “Honey, old love doesn't rust,” Anita calls, whilst her leopard print slippers fall beside me on the pavement.
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