Insta Love or Instalove (slang): The romance trope in which two characters fall in love almost immediately upon meeting, smitten by a consuming, intense attraction.
Okay, think Romeo and Juliet, Pride and Prejudice, The Princess Bride and, more recently, Ruby Dixon’s Ice Planet Barbarians series. All employ instalove. All are testament to the enduring popularity of the trope with romance readers.
And why wouldn’t it be popular? Don’t you feel special when somebody is immediately attracted to you? When they want to be with you, touch you, be close to you constantly? When they are obviously consumed by instalove—for you?
It happened to me once. True story. I was staying at a friend’s, was sound asleep when—just after midnight—someone bopped my nose. My eyes shot open. Gleaming eyes met mine in the dark. Big, sparkling eyes set in a furry, feline face. Astro, my friend’s cat (and no respecter of personal space), had snuck in the guest room to be with me.
I was surprised. We’d just met that evening. Our gazes had locked across the living room; me snacking on popcorn, him licking his paws. But after a moment we’d glanced away, apparently indifferent to one another.
But now, alone in the dark, the truth was clear: Astro liked me. In fact, he like liked me. Astro had been smitten with instalove.
As for me? Well, I was flattered . . . but less smitten. Cuz I had to go potty and he was being clingy. He insisted on accompanying me to the bathroom, weaving between my legs as I stumbled groggily down the hall. He snuck in with me (again, personal space issues), stared at me adoringly while I did my business, then rubbed against my legs purring loudly while I washed my hands.
Instalove was feeling a bit stalkerish now. Still flattering, but also kind of alarming. I hurried back to my room. I darted in. He darted in, too. He jumped up on the bed making it clear he wanted—for sure—to sleep with me. But I—for sure—didn’t want to sleep with him. Not only was I afraid he’d keep me awake with his constant purring, head butting, and kneading (yeah, he appeared to be a kneader), but I’m allergic to cats. So, with tears in my eyes, I returned to the hall and he oh-so-slowly followed. Once he (finally) cleared the threshold, I leaped over him and shut the door (tightly this time) in his bewildered little face.
I returned to bed. All alone, sprawled on the cool sheets, did I regret rejecting him? Yes. Yes, I did. Partly because snuggling with his soft, furry, little self would have been nice despite my tears . . . but mostly because he thumped at the door for a long, long time, meowing plaintively.
But eventually, Astro wandered off and the next day, we met as strangers, parting soon thereafter with no (or at least not many) regrets.
Cuz that’s the thing about instalove. In books or in real life, only time will determine if instalove is forever love, too.
