LOVING LOVE.

Some of us live better than others. I don’t mean the obvious financial distribution imbalance, I mean the zest for love. Some run out, others never do. I will forever be fascinated by Jennifer Lopez’s approach to romantic relationships. She loves them as much as she adores love itself. During another predictably unsuccessful Tinder date, replace the tired “on to the next” mantra/chant with “J. Lo kween” to get you through the next two hours – this is a woman that will never want to stop dating or, indeed, looking for true love, even after three marriages and at least two engagements.

Forgive me for the relentless use of André Aciman’s Call Me By Your Name (or don’t forgive – I am obsessed, it’s clinical and can’t be helped), but there is a quote in the monologue delivered by the protagonist’s father (only the most tear-jerking, beautiful piece of writing throughout the entire universe existence): “If there is pain, nurse it… We rip so much of ourselves to be cured of things faster than we should that we go bankrupt by the age of thirty and have less to offer each time we start with someone new.” I’d been having less to offer before I even entered my first marriage, at the spent-out age of 23. Might be an exaggeration for argument’s sake, but I’m sure as sh-t empty of offers now. Not that romance is dead, I don’t believe it is, but continuously diving into it, after having rollercoaster-ed through a few relationships in the past, is no longer of interest – not only is there no prize at the destination, there’s rarely much of the joy in the journey. Relationships can be exhausting.

Not for J. Lo though. That heart-wrenching prose does not apply to Señora Lopez, she hardly ever has time to nurse the pain. She is relentless, unstoppable and, no sarcasm, #blessed in her undying belief that she will “understand him in a way that [she doesn’t] think anyone else could”. Of course, she will. It would be easier to process maybe, if her choices in suitors have not all been so… particular, or of an acquired taste, – she stubbornly refuses to prefer an equal. If I was her (imagine!) I would go for Eminem. This “J-Rod” picture from Vanity Fair (holy sh-t)? Visualise it with Eminem’s face photoshopped right onto Alex Rodriguez's oily doucheness.

Lastly, to dispel any rumours about how she looks better in her 40s than in her 20s, it is the worst-kept secret that she bathes in the blood of virgins. I don’t know why she wouldn’t come right out and say it, since everyone knows anyway, maybe she is shy.