Wish I Loved You in the 90s

I wish I’d loved you in the 90s when love wasn’t tangled in a mess of screens and profiles, a time when eyes did the talking and silence was safe, not awkward. Back then, people didn’t need captions or filters to say, “I’m here, and I’m yours.” Love was simpler, rawer, like a melody that didn’t need autotuned. I picture us sitting on park benches or sharing mixtapes, letting the music tell out secrets without any need for words.

In today’s world, love feels like it’s all edges and no center, an algorithm deciding who see us, who cares, who swipes left or right. I wonder how much easier it would’ve been to know you then, to reach you without reaching over this world of curated chaos.

Imagine, a love unbothered by the pressure to perform, to capture every moment and present it neatly wrapped for strangers. Instead, there’d just be us, imperfect, maybe, but real. Love wouldn’t be a series of boxes to check or notifications to clear. In the 90s, I think love was more like an open road — uncertain, sure, but inviting.

I wish I’d loved you then, in a world where I wouldn’t have to shout over the noise just to tell you that you’re all I need. Maybe in the 90s, I could’ve whispered it, and it would’ve been enough.

—

This post was previously published on medium.com.

***