Join Holly as she searches east Auckland for love and connection.
In which Holly writes to a lost love.
Dear Civility,
I’ve been reading Calling In by Loretta J. Ross, and it made me think of you.
Come back, darling, please. I miss you so much.
I miss the way you held me. Your embrace was so strong, and yet so warm. You taught me that tenderness can be powerful.
It’s okay that you had a billion other lovers – in fact, that was the point.
I was glad to share you with everyone… even politicians! We were all in this polycule together, believing there was more than enough of you to go around.
I miss how you made us better lovers to each other.
Not just the romantic kind, but the kind that loves humanity enough to assume good intentions.
The kind that remembers that behind each screen and across every divide sits somebody’s child, or someone who feels as overwhelmed and misunderstood as we sometimes do.
I miss you in the darkest spaces of my life, where algorithms try to teach your former lovers to forget you.
The algorithms whisper that you were weak and naïve.
They manipulate us into thinking that fury is the only authentic option, and that loving you is a betrayal of our convictions.
Civility, those algorithms never did quite understand your philosophy – your calm insistence that humans are happier when they see and serve one another.
I miss the way you made conversations feel like flower gardens, not battlefields.
I miss your love for questions, and your gentle reminders that the aim was to understand, not to win.
You taught us that we could hold our truths fiercely while still leaving room for others to hold theirs.
The world feels sharp without you. It’s all angles and edges… there’s no soft space to land.
So often, now, we forget how to disagree without destroying.
And yet, I know you’re not really gone. I still catch glimpses of you sometimes, in unexpected places.
I see you in the stranger who says “excuse me” or “thank you” with genuine kindness.
I see you in simple gestures, like a door held open or the sharing of an umbrella.
I see you in moments of radical strength – when someone admits they’ve caused harm, or when grace is offered where judgment was expected.
But, Civility, I ache for more of you. I’m waiting for you, darling… but I also know that waiting isn’t enough.
I know that I (and all your other lovers) need to win you back with our words and actions.
I’ll try, and I’ll trust others to try with me.
Email holly@times.co.nz
Yours in love,
Holly
