Even students who find relationships daunting can fall in love with love

For the majority of Columbians, Nov. 22 was just a regular date—yet another 24 hours of waiting for their upcoming Thanksgiving food orgies—but for me, it was a big deal. I turned 21 that day, which got me thinking a lot about the past year—an appropriate trip down memory lane for this column, since this is my final installment for 2010. My year was filled with unexpected, fulfilling, and depressing moments, and even a few revelatory experiences. Through it all, this column was in the back of my mind, constantly reminding me to think about my role in the discourse about sex and dating at Columbia.

Though I’ve covered many topics that affect most students, I’ve stayed away from a big one, a subject that inched its way into my head this year like no other: love. It doesn’t seem like the sexiest topic, but it’s been weighing on my mind since I sat down in front of my computer back in January to write about virginity.

Try as we may to avoid it with hook-ups, drinking binges, and weird self-defense mechanisms, love creeps into our lives more and more with each passing birthday. After all, we’re starting to come into our own and understand who we are as people, so we’ve become more ready than before to allow someone else into our worlds. I’ve watched a few of my friends fill up their first two years in college with nonstop one-night stands and then suddenly decide that they need someone who will be around even when the booze is gone and the morning breath sets in. They love partying, but as one of them pointed out, “Sometimes you just want to cuddle,” and that’s definitely not something I can imagine anyone asking for casually.

The term “love” is loaded with mystery—we’ve thrown the word around with practically everyone, including friends, family, and prom dates. Now, “love” has become even more filled with meanings. For some, it’s synonymous with pressure and marriage, for others it’s an elusive desire, and for the best of us, it’s a great line to use to get someone in bed.

So what does it mean? Honestly, I use it daily and I have no real idea. I fell in love this year and it threw me into an exhilarating whirlwind of feeling that I have yet to comprehend. As for most people, love came for me when I wasn’t looking. I was casually dating a nice man, content after escaping a painful relationship, when I did a few too many tequila shots one night and pulled a handsome stranger outside of the bar for an entirely inappropriate-for-the-sidewalk kiss. He invited me to breakfast a few hours later, and then I fell. Hard and fast. I opted out after a week—it scared me to want someone so bad—but the night after I told him I couldn’t see him, I broke down at the thought of never speaking to him again. Luckily, it all ended well: The man in question is now my boyfriend.

Since then, love has meant everything for me, from fear to elation to sadness to insecurity to safety to joy to sex. Most people assert that they “just know” when they’re in love. I wish I could be more specific, but at best, I can say it’s a feeling deep inside that feels so good it hurts.

Typically, this kind of vortex of unknowing would bother me to no end. I hate being unsure, but if there is one lesson I’ve picked up over the last 12 months, it’s that I should try my hardest to embrace whatever life throws my way. An insanely clichéd piece of advice, I know, but useful and invigorating nonetheless.

We are young, we are sort of free, and we are all just starting to understand what will come after we graduate. Most of us come to college with an I-know-everything feeling embedded deep inside—we secretly believe that we’re the cream of some crop, and we want to prove to the world that we can do this. But as I’ve discovered, the world doesn’t care. It confronts us with very real, very adult situations that we can’t run to mommy or daddy with.

Love is one of these. I’ve watched countless friends soar to the heights of excitement, wane, and come crashing down at the hands of love. Every type of person is affected—geeks, jocks, party animals, and those cruising around in between. Cupid doesn’t care how smart or confident you are—he’s going to get you and tear you to pieces no matter where you hide, so just accept it. Yes, it’s scary. Yes, it can be painful. And yes, it’s frustrating. But it’s also inspiring, life-changing, amazing, and, well, sexy. So, I say, here’s to love. Cheers.