There is an interesting mindset that sets in during your senior year of college. The pressure to succeed coupled with the yearning to finish, added to the desire of seizing every day, which is troubled by the tendency to reminisce, all contribute to a state of anxiety and restlessness that only the heftiest of prescriptions could quell. So how is it at this time when classes, internships, leadership positions at our extracurriculars and part-time jobs have taken over our lives do we still have time to worry about relationships?
As we stand on the cusp of true adulthood, it is natural to want to do one of three things: Tether ourselves to the carefree romances of college before they, too, must be severed at graduation; begin to build the foundations of adult relationships with older partners; or swear off all relationships for the year, recognizing the futility of their temporality. The first satisfies our carpe diem mindset and buttresses our denial that the real world awaits, the second option provides a sense of security that there is someone waiting for us on the other side, and the third removes unnecessary emotional involvement in an already trying year.
When I began to examine where I stood in this continuum, I was surprised to think about how much my friends and I had all changed. Some who began college in serious relationships were now steadfastly single, a couple that had jumped from partner to partner now find themselves in a committed relationship, and others unpredictably want no one at all. While I have remained single the vast majority of college, this semester I have vacillated through these three extremes.
I found myself pursuing younger guys in an honest attempt to date someone whose schedule doesn't revolve around nine to five, revisiting the earlier days of having someone who didn't mind what time you crawled into bed with them as long as you didn't puke on their floor; a monogamous connection that doesn't necessitate serious discussion, but fills the hole of lacking intimacy. But these parties seemed uninterested; perhaps they assumed my interest to be temporary, my intentions insincere. The ties to option one seem to have been long cut off.
I continue to go out to bars with my friends in the vain hope of meeting someone older and more mature who takes dating seriously. But this only results in revisiting my exes, because their age and experience make them seem attractive again when option two ignites within me.
I don't consider option three an active choice, since it seems to result as circumstantial failure, but I do identify with the feeling that my efforts to pursue the other avenues are in vain and convincing myself that I am better off alone can be the most effective balm for my wounded ego.
At this point in college I don't even know if we can choose which of these paths we'll travel until graduation. We have little leverage with which to establish a relationship with a younger or older partner, especially if a change in location is included in our post-graduate plans. We can continue being blissfully unattached if our libido agrees to the vacation, but then how will we feel about squandering the last of "the best years of our lives?"
I choose not to think about the last question (I told you I hate hypotheticals). What concerns me is that we may only perpetuate our previous sexual behavior because it is how we define ourselves, and in doing so risk denying that we have grown and matured. I may maintain my sassy and single attitude to suppress that I now really want a relationship, but have so far been unsuccessful. My friend is worried because her sex drive has dropped, even though she's finally in a satisfying relationship, and it may just be that she's more comfortable with herself.
Even before first semester midterms, graduation seems to be rapidly approaching. This is the year when we have to show the real world that we are to be taken seriously. I have never felt more comfortable at my internships, confident I could begin full-time on Monday, but when I'm not taken seriously in my attempts at relationships, I resort to flippancy about their importance.
Will we always be products of our freshman, sophomore and junior years, incapable of developing in the eyes of our peers? I have seen my friends grow and change. Now it's time to see myself.
