THE WEIGHT OF LOVE

In partnership with

🖋️ The Weight of Love

House.Roc Entertainment & Star 86 Studios Present,
Written by: Filipa R. Abreu in Association with ChatGPT Noir Division + Gemini Industries

🌟 Editor's Note

Please be advised this content is for mature audiences. Regina Young and “Young Realty” are figments of the authors imagination. This is a Human-AI Hybrid Creation. Stay Creative :)

Disclosures are Signed, Agreements in Tow,
The Home of your Dreams is ready to show.
The Scent is of Sage, the Lighting is Low —
We’ll see who wants Work… or be gone before the snow…

Welcome Home, Dear Buyer, let me show you around.
She’s flawless, I warn you — not a crack to be found.
The Weight of Love shows in the labor you do.
Shall we keep going… or is this too much for you?

Take off your coat, let’s not waste your stare —
This isn’t a Fairytale.
Buyer, Beware!

Let me show you the garden, let me light every flame
You touch the brass handles, but do not know it’s name.
You said it was perfect, too perfect to trust
So you leave her behind in a layer of dust.
You circled the kitchen, ran hands down the tile
It gave you a shiver, you gave it a smile.
But Love, my dear Buyer, is more then a proffer.
You walk through every room but have written no offer.

You walk through the house, point all that is perfect,
But you know deep inside you’ll never feel worth it.

You praise every feature, you sigh at the view,
But your Fear of Work, will not let you break through.

The Weight of Love is as loud as a Bell,
The Home everyone wants, is Impossible to Sell.

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You wanted the light, not the wiring below
You wanted the fire, not the ashes that show
You measured the ceiling, but not what it means
To be held by a House that knows all your Dreams

It’s not love that’s heavy — it’s all your retreat
The fear of the floors that remember your feet
It’s not love that broke you — it’s needing control
It’s you walking away from something so whole.

“It’s gorgeous,” you say. “But maybe too grand.”
“It’s more than I’ve earned. More than I planned.”

Now here’s the room where laughter stayed
Where fights were had and then forgave
“The fireplace works, the floors are clean”
But the fear in you won’t let her be seen.

“It’s perfect,” one whispers. “But maybe not me.”
“I don’t really sit. I don’t watch much TV.”

“It’s too nice,” he mutters. “I wouldn’t keep up.”
“I don’t even know how to pour love in a cup.”

“I travel too much,” they say. “I rise before five.”
“This bed would make me feel oh so very alive.”

You are currently reading L’Etranger - For Real Estate Lovers

“My Dream Home, She is all I could ask for!”
But you whispered “too much” and walked out the door
You dreamed of her nightly, then fled from the key
The Weight of Love… it was not meant to be.

You gasp at the backsplash, you pose for the hue,

But the work of commitment? Too heavy for you.

You worship the Lighting, romantic and blue,

But love’s not a rental — it asks you to Do.

You talk like a Buyer, rehearsed and on cue,

But you vanish the moment the chores become true.

You say that you want it — a house with a heart.
But tremble the moment the labor might start.
You flinch at the weight, at the mess, at the cost,
At the chance that you’ll love it and still end up lost.

You want the bed warm, but not making it daily.
You want to be held — not to hold someone, bravely.
You want love to stay, but not call out your name.
You want all the comfort, without any claim.

You want the long haul — with no wear and tear.
The title of “Home” with no Closings to bear.
But love has demands — she does not spare.
And fear makes a tenant. It doesn’t repair.

So button your coat, don’t waste your stare —
This isn’t a fairytale.
Buyer, beware.

Let them want “new,” let them run fast
Let them ghost the things that they’ll fear will last
But not me, dear — I signed it with glee
This house is off-market. She now lives with me.

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The Weight of Love is meant to feel heavy. Don’t be afraid of work. It’s where the real beauty lives.

You can’t keep saying you want the dream, if you’re unwilling to pick up a hammer.
This house doesn’t build itself.
Tip if you know what I mean.

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