Ah, life. That clingy, unpredictable, high-maintenance partner you didn’t swipe right on but somehow ended up stuck with anyway. Some people treat it like a sacred romance, whispering affirmations to their morning smoothies. Others treat it like a hostage situation with better Wi-Fi. But here’s the truth: staying in love with life takes effort, delusion, and occasionally pretending you didn’t see what it just did to your 401(k).
Think of this as your brutally honest, slightly unhinged, definitely-not-approved-by-Oprah guide to staying madly in love with life—even when it insists on leaving dirty socks (and existential crises) all over the floor.
Chapter 1: Lower Your Expectations—Way Lower
The secret to eternal bliss isn’t manifesting yachts or “aligning your frequency.” No, the secret is having expectations so low that life can trip over them while drunk at 3 a.m. If you expect nothing, every minor win—a green light, an okay cup of coffee, not dying in traffic—feels like a standing ovation.
Love isn’t about perfection. It’s about looking at the mess and saying: “Fine. I guess we’re doing this.” That’s romance.
Chapter 2: Treat Life Like an Unstable Lover
Life will ghost you, breadcrumb you, and text you “u up?” at the worst possible times. But instead of demanding commitment, lean into the chaos. Stay mysterious. Don’t schedule everything within an inch of its existence. When life cancels plans, don’t sulk—treat it like spontaneity.
Pro tip: Life loves when you’re hard to get. Ignore it for a day. Binge Netflix. Watch how suddenly it throws a random adventure or crisis your way, just to get your attention.
Chapter 3: Curate Your Delusions
Let’s be clear: the people who look like they’re in love with life are delusional. They’ve convinced themselves that yoga at 6 a.m. is fun, that taxes are “empowering,” and that cilantro doesn’t taste like soap.
So pick your delusions wisely. Maybe convince yourself your daily walk is a spiritual pilgrimage instead of a desperate escape from your neighbors. Tell yourself your job “gives you purpose,” not ulcers. Trick your brain. That’s what staying in love with life is all about.
Chapter 4: Weaponize Gratitude
Gratitude journals are just diaries where you gaslight yourself. “I am grateful for this lukewarm gas station coffee.” Sure, Jan. But here’s the thing—it works. Gratitude is the duct tape that holds your relationship with life together.
It’s hard to stay mad at life when you’re busy writing a love letter to your functional kidneys. Yes, life sucks sometimes—but damn, it’s cute when it breathes air into your lungs.
Chapter 5: Rebrand Your Misery
Romantic relationships thrive on reframing. “He’s not ignoring me; he’s just mysterious.” Same logic applies to life. That traffic jam isn’t ruining your morning—it’s an opportunity to practice patience while listening to the same song on repeat until you hate it.
If you can spin every disaster into a quirky love story, congratulations—you’re in the honeymoon phase forever.
Chapter 6: Develop a Hobby (That Isn’t Doomscrolling)
If you want to stay in love, you’ve got to keep things fresh. Nobody loves a clingy partner who follows them into the bathroom, and life feels the same way when you obsess over news notifications and Twitter threads about the apocalypse.
Pick a hobby that distracts you from how messy life is. Paint, bake bread, yell at squirrels—anything. Life loves it when you pretend you’re too busy to care.
Chapter 7: Laugh at the Absurdity
Life is ridiculous. We’re hairless apes paying rent to other hairless apes so we can sit in fabric-covered boxes and click rectangles all day. Romance dies when you take that too seriously.
Laugh. Laugh at the absurdity. Laugh at the fact that the universe thought mayonnaise was a good idea. Laughter is the lube that keeps the gears of existence from grinding your soul into sawdust.
Chapter 8: Cheat (With Nature)
Here’s a little secret: life is sexier outdoors. The indoors version of life has fluorescent lighting, bills, and that smell coming from the fridge. But step outside? Boom—sunlight, birdsong, and vitamin D hitting you like a shot of tequila.
If your romance with life is dying, cheat with nature. It won’t fix everything, but it’ll remind you why you haven’t filed for divorce yet.
Chapter 9: Stay Petty
Staying in love doesn’t mean being noble. Sometimes it means pettiness. You don’t get to control the big stuff—wars, pandemics, your neighbor’s playlist—but you can absolutely win small victories.
Eat dessert before dinner. Wear pajamas to the store. Buy the fancy soap. These are the petty acts of rebellion that remind you life may be a tyrant, but you can still smuggle in joy like contraband.
Chapter 10: Die Eventually (But Not Yet)
Let’s not ignore the elephant in the room: death. Life’s greatest betrayal is that it dumps you without warning. But here’s the twist—that’s also why the romance works. The whole thing is temporary, fragile, absurd. Knowing the breakup is inevitable makes the little moments hotter.
So yes, one day life will leave you on read forever. But until then? Make out with it in the backseat every chance you get.
Final Thoughts: Love Isn’t Perfect—It’s Petty, Messy, and Worth It
To stay in love with life, don’t chase perfection. Don’t wait for the big moments. Love it in its sweatpants, with bedhead, after it ate garlic. Love it when it’s late, moody, and objectively being a jerk.
The point isn’t that life is good. The point is that it’s here, it’s yours, and for now, you two are stuck together. You might as well stay in love—snark, delusion, and all.