If you're reading this, then we're on the same page, so here I go.

I hate love, and I hate the people in love even more. Yes, I said it with my full chest; you can quote me anywhere. Love makes me nauseous. Is it the googly eyes people get when they talk about their significant others, or the erroneous PDA they carry out? I hate it all. Tomiwa, I promise you, there’s no reason why you should send a flock of doves in front of your girlfriend’s house or for your five-month anniversary. Chisom, that surprise dinner with a live orchestra you’re planning for your boyfriend’s birthday—cancel it. Or at least cancel the orchestra.

2024 was the year for lovers, and all a single pringle like me could do was scoff at my screen whenever another couple decided to show us that nobody could love like them. Okay, I admit, some of those were cute (the guy who did the storybook about how much he loved his girlfriend and their relationship—absolutely wonderful), but still, allow us (me) to breathe. Christmas came, and all of you decided to show us that you had matching pyjamas. Why are you even wearing pyjamas for a photo shoot? Something that you're supposed to sleep in. Tacky, if I do say so myself.

I think the worst one was at the gym. My only crime was that I went to see a friend at the gym, but unfortunately, I could not escape the love showers. There was a couple not too far from us. The girl was trying to reach a pull-up bar, but she was too short. She asked her boyfriend for help, and instead of him getting her a stool or something to climb on, he lifted her by the waist and basically did the pull-ups for her. I’ve never felt so lonely in my life. Love never looked so sweet and appalling at the same time.

Okay, maybe I’m hating because I’m jealous. Maybe I’m hating because I want the doves and the morning breakfasts, the slow dances in the rain, and the late nights on the phone where we talk about how much I hate my boss and how stressful your day was at work. It doesn’t matter. I’m still a hater, and I’ll hate till thy kingdom come (or until I find my own LOML and start showing all of you the shege I’m currently seeing).

Don’t get me wrong, I hate love, but if I do ever fall in love, all of you are going to hear it. I will shove my love in your faces so hard, and you all will block me on social media. Christmas photos? Oh my lord, I’ll even do multiple pyjamas, so pray I don’t fall in love (I’m joking, please don’t ever say that prayer for me).

2024, you didn’t let me rest because of love, but 2025 will hopefully be a year of peace. It’s either I find love or I delete Twitter. See you next time, my fellow anti-lovers.