In order to maintain the essence of Heart of the Matter, the students who share their hearts with us will remain anonymous.
Whether or not you have a reservation at Veekoo for two this Saturday is irrelevant. Unfortunately for you, Valentine’s Day is once again around the corner, and there is no escaping it. Delete Instagram to avoid the inevitable realization that everyone but you seems to be in a relationship. Make a Galentine’s Day charcuterie board and pretend it’s better than La Scala’s. Fake an illness to justify your staying in or amp up the talking stage to get a free box of chocolates. Pick your poison. This is a judgment-free zone.
Although we can put forth a cynical act this holiday, or maybe you are one of the lucky ones, none of us is exempt from wanting love. What I have learned is that we are all participants in some form of modern love.
Let’s test my theory. Do you aggressively reread texts before responding, putting in more editing work than you do with your class papers? Do you suddenly become a behavioral analyst when someone uses a period instead of an exclamation point? Have you ever told your friends you “don’t care” when you care too much? Do you wait to respond around the seven-minute mark so it looks like you were busy and not waiting around?
I thought so. Don’t panic. There is no shame in this game. Today’s love has evolved. It’s certainly not writing sonnets by the Oreo or playing from boomboxes outside of Sheehan. It’s far subtler. Love today takes on a different form than Shakespeare could have envisioned in his infinite wisdom. It comes through texts, memes, playlists and LinkedIn stalking. It’s confusing, self-aware, perhaps unserious and very human.
I, for one, talk about love constantly. In group chats, long car rides and half-serious hypotheticals, yet there’s still a category of thoughts I rarely volunteer out loud. The slightly embarrassing ones. The contradictory ones. The ones that reveal I care more than I’d like to confess.
Curious about how this experience plays out on Villanova’s campus, I asked students one anonymous question: What is one thing about love you wouldn’t normally admit?
Once again, I was impressed by my peers. For a typically awkward subject, people had lots of thoughts. Let me break it down for you.
The Analysis of it All
You are not in love. You are investigating. The fun part of dating is the research, where there is a constant deciphering of the unknown, with baseless advice from your friends who know just as little as you do.
“I reread texts far more than I like to admit.”
“I draft responses in my notes app and then send them to my friends to make me sound funnier.”
“I find their Spotify playlist and judge from there.”
“I look at their Instagram to see what they like and then casually bring it up in conversation.”
Romance may be timeless, but its metrics have evolved. Thanks to the digital age, we now have receipts and those receipts are put to use.
The Balancing Act
Another theme emerged during my conversations: the push and pull between independence and connection. The fine line between acting like you don’t care and caring enough so they don’t start talking to other people.
We want attention, but in a cool, effortless way that implies we do not need it. Here’s what Villanovans had to say:
“I want to seem low maintenance, but I think I may be incredibly high maintenance.”
“I get attached really easily but lie to my friends and tell them I don’t like them.”
Bottom line: vulnerability is scary.
We can all pretend we care less than we do, but are we fooling anyone? The art of detachment is a performance. We are all pretending a little.
I don’t have any dramatic conclusions from this exercise. I cannot explain what love means for our generation. But take this collection of small truths as proof that we are all navigating connections.
Beneath the irony and the analysis, one thing is clear: people still care. How they show it, now that is an entirely different ballgame.
