The Evil Called Love

Life is a series of uncertainties, and perhaps one of the most profound uncertainties we face is the unpredictability of our relationships. Break-ups, though often painful and emotionally taxing, offer us a valuable lesson in navigating the uncharted waters of the unknown. They teach us to appreciate, or at the very least, accept the concept of not knowing and help us realize that this ambiguity is something we can handle. In a world driven by the need for control and certainty, it's easy to forget that life is inherently uncertain. We plan meticulously, expecting every step to follow a predetermined path. Relationships, too, fall victim to this desire for predictability. We enter into them with the expectation that they will last forever, that love will always conquer all, and that the future is set in stone. But reality often has other plans. Break-ups shatter these illusions. They remind us that even the most promising relationships can unravel, leaving us in a state of emotiona

What is ‘mojo’? Mojo is a simple charm you keep with you at all times to turn bad luck into good fortune. In the personal development context, it’s that magic you have about you that makes you a success, lands you a job and gets you what you want. It’s your ‘aura’; the thing that makes you unforgettable. The glint in your eye, or the snap in your every step. It’s that certain something that keeps you confident. We use this inner charm when we need to get something done, like when we want to impress someone or when we want to drive good fortune into our lives by the power of our mind alone. It is my belief that everyone is born with this ‘magic’ or ‘blessing’.  Considering this, it makes me wonder why a person would feel like he has lost this magic when a relationship ends. More than once, I’ve heard someone else say the phrase ‘unlucky in love’ with a dejected sigh. So… Did You Lose Your “Mojo” to Your Ex? After a break up, you might feel like you’re just a husk of your former self; an

When my serious relationship ended, I didn’t realize how much time I’d spend replaying every moment, wondering where it all went wrong. There’s a certain weight that comes with breakups, a dull ache that makes it feel like the world is standing still while you’re still sifting through the ruins of what was once “us.” Moving on is never easy — it took me longer than I’d like to admit — but it’s also a necessary step in regaining your sense of self. Here’s what I learned from my personal experience when it comes to knowing when it’s time to move on after a breakup.        1.     You’re Holding on to Hope, But Nothing’s Changing     After my breakup, I kept clinging to the idea that we might get back together. I would analyze our last conversations, hoping to find some hidden message or clue that things could be fixed. I wasn't ready to accept that it was truly over. But with each passing day, nothing changed. The silence on their end said everything. At some point, you need to be hon

There’s a strange kind of fog that rolls in after a breakup. Not just the obvious heartache or grief, but a deeper sense of disorientation — as if you've lost something more than just the relationship. For many of us, the hardest part of moving on isn’t letting go of the other person; it’s remembering who we were before the relationship ever began. When you’ve spent so much time being part of an “us,” it’s easy to forget what it felt like to be “just you.” I know this because I’ve been there. I woke up one day, long after the breakup, and realized that I couldn’t remember what made me   me   before the relationship. My interests, my routines, even the way I saw myself had become so wrapped up in the other person that I had no idea where they ended and I began.        How It Happens: The Slow Disappearance of “You” This loss of identity doesn’t happen all at once. It’s gradual, like a slow unraveling. You compromise, you adjust, and before you know it, your decisions — big and small

There you are, sitting across from a stranger who is suddenly not a stranger. Sparks fly, the room fades away, and you find yourself speaking in a movie script. “This is it,” you think. “I’ve found the one!” But before you start planning your couple’s Instagram handle, let’s pause for a reality check. We all love a good story. That love story worth posting online. We all want that. The problem is, we often turn dates into mini-romantic comedies in our heads. After just one date, we convince ourselves that we’ve met our soulmate. Why? Because it feels good. Because it’s exciting. And because no one wants to admit that finding true love might actually take, well, a little more effort than a couple of overpriced cocktails. The truth is, feeling a connection on a first date is more about chemistry than compatibility. Chemistry is fun; it’s fireworks and butterflies. But compatibility is quieter. It’s built on shared values, mutual respect, and those little things that make or break a rel

It’s astonishing how quickly dreams can crumble. For weeks, I was soaring, entangled in what seemed like the start of something extraordinary. He was attentive, charming, and seemed genuinely captivated by me. Every text, every late-night chat, every tender moment felt like a step toward something meaningful. But now, as reality sets in, I understand how mistaken I was.  I’ve been played. The signs weren’t obvious at first. He had a way of making me feel exceptional, like I was the only one who mattered. I fell for it all—the sweet words, the considerate acts, the way he gazed at me with what seemed like adoration. I wove a fantasy around us, convinced we were building something real, something lasting. The night we finally spent together seemed like the culmination of our connection. It was intimate, filled with whispers and touches that made me believe this was the beginning of something beautiful. But the next morning, everything changed. The warmth in his eyes was replaced by a col

  I still remember the way he looked at me that first night we met. His eyes seemed to speak volumes, telling me that I was special, that I was different. It was the beginning of a whirlwind of attention and affection that lasted for weeks. Every text, every call, every little gesture felt like a promise of something more. He made me believe that we were building something real, something lasting. But now, sitting alone in the silence of my room, I realize that all those promises were nothing but a cruel joke. For weeks, he lavished me with attention. There were late-night conversations filled with laughter and shared dreams, sweet messages that made my heart flutter, and moments where I truly believed he saw me—really saw me—for who I was. He made me feel cherished, wanted, like I was the center of his universe. It was a beautiful illusion, one that I fell for completely. The night we finally spent together felt like the culmination of all those weeks of connection. It was supposed to