In music, Adele’s Hello (released late 2015) became an anthem not for new love, but for the unresolved past. Meanwhile, The Weeknd’s Can’t Feel My Face celebrated the numbing, addictive high of a relationship that was probably bad for you. The earnest, uncomplicated love songs of the early 2000s felt naive. In 2015, love had edges, terms, and conditions.
But 2015 was also the year of specialization. Alongside Tinder’s brute-force geography, we saw the rise of Hinge (the "relationship app"), Bumble (which would launch later in the year, giving women the first move), and the continued intellectual cachet of OkCupid and Match.com. Love became a filter. You didn't just look for "someone nice"; you looked for someone who liked the same obscure bands, voted the same way, or stood within a five-mile radius. love 2015
It was a hopeful year, but a cautious one. We had the world in our pockets and a million faces at our thumbs. But as the apps grew smarter, the heart grew wearier. Love in 2015 was the year we realized that while technology can find you a thousand first dates, it cannot teach you how to stay. It taught us that the hardest swipe isn't left or right—it's the one that puts the phone down, looks someone in the eye, and says, "Let's try the hard thing." In music, Adele’s Hello (released late 2015) became