The Evil Called Love

Let me start with a bold statement: I am not afraid of the friendzone. In fact, I’m drawn to it. The friendzone, for me, is not some dark pit of unrequited affection, nor is it the place where romantic dreams go to die. No, the friendzone is a breath of fresh air—a place where I can care for someone deeply without any need to play the games that dating so often requires. Here’s a secret: I think the friendzone gets a bad rap. Most people talk about it as a place of eternal suffering, a purgatory where affection is given, but love is never reciprocated. But I’ve come to realize that being in the friendzone is often the *opposite* of suffering; it’s freeing. It’s a place where I can be affectionate, genuine, and even vulnerable, without the constant fear of my intentions being misinterpreted. There’s an ease in knowing I can be kind, supportive, or even downright mushy with someone without having to wonder, *“Did I come on too strong?”* As someone who has often fancied herself commitment