Dating is one of the worst things I care to imagine.
You meet a stranger. You make small talk. You try to determine if there is a potential to spend your life together. With the explicit goal of figuring out whether or not you want to have a relationship with them.
It’s barbaric.
I’d much rather continue falling in and out of love with my friends.
They know me, I don’t need to pretend, or put on facades or question my every move.
In reality, I’m only pretending though.
For a small moment, my heart lies with them. I see all their beauty and their potential. Then, as quick as the wind flies past, it’s gone. I fall in love again. Not lingering long enough to become a casualty.
Insights of A. Rose 