Are we really all that “hopeless” when we call ourselves “romantics” at a time where casual relationships are becoming the new norm?
When we talk about casual lovers, we often immediately run to the idea of hookups and sex. But we tend to forget the romance of it all when we are in the heat of the pain and sadness that arrives in the aftermath of casual dating. The beauty of ‘casual’ is the romance we can create within it. Think about it like this: you’ve been dreaming of going to university since you were 12-years-old. You’ve been pushing through your exams, making vision boards, doom-scrolling on pinterest, and dreaming about the life you’re going to make for yourself. What you refuse to do, is to take a step back and realise you’re already living it.
Some of you reading this will have just started your first semester, and some of you are finishing your last. If you’re anything like me, that crush that gets you through the long days of first year will become a hazy highlight in your university memories. He was probably an typical Inner West creative; mine had shoulder-length wavy hair, a bit of a lost smolder about him, and played the drums (what a dreamboat!). We only ever spoke twice but I admired him from afar, feeling like I was fifteen again. I would get overly excited for that class, not to discuss Midnight’s Children by Salman Rushdie, but to listen to him discuss Midnight’s Children. I don’t remember his name now, though I’ll always remember his luscious locks. I hope he’s doing well.
The romance wasn’t only in the butterflies I felt for him, but also in the coffee catch ups with friends where I would word vomit my “real and very true” love for him. The twenty minute walk-and-talks from Fisher Library to the Quad are forever stuck in my memory. We would spend $7 on an extremely average iced latte and sit on the sandstone walls, discussing the happenings from the week prior. It was typically dramas from the student accommodation we lived in; insular, petty things about how there’s a new situationship started between people in the friend group, or a couple of people hooked up on that crazy night out that we can barely remember. The details never stuck for more than a week, but I will always remember the friendships that my debriefs brought.
The Quad holds a very specific place in my heart. Arguably, it’s the most romantic place on campus. I’ve explored every crevice, investigated every symbol, and sat on those walls through day and night. Buildings hold their own type of love and nostalgia. The bricks tell hundreds of years of stories about love, heartache, growth, friendship, failure, and success. If only the walls could talk; what they’d tell us would be extraordinary. They would tell us about all the curious students who jiggled the doorknobs of locked doors, or the stories of secret love affairs hidden in the corners of the turrets, and the tales of those who were alone in their thoughts. But for now, all we can do is be those who try the doorknobs, those who have secret love affairs and are alone with our own thoughts.
Though, this was mostly my first year experience. You’ll get halfway through second year and have the moment of “ugh, I just want to settle down now”. Hinge, Tinder, Bumble… all of them will be on your phone. Of course you’d prefer to meet them organically, but when will you find the time to go out and about? Between your increased workload, your new job that you got after you realised how expensive Sydney actually is, and your ‘post-first year burn out’, you just can’t seem to schedule love in! This is when you’ll start going on actual dates. I know, I know… it sounds tedious to say the least. But it’s not all bad, I promise.
I matched with a man on Tinder during this time. He was quite perfectly my type and only a kilometre away (and when living on campus, that likely means they go to USyd too). We went through all the monotonous small talk and he asked me out on a date. We ended up having some wine, bread and oil at Sappho in Glebe. With the live music in the background, the energy was just right. After telling our separately similar tales of the times we’ve been exploring (he had climbed up scaffolding, and I had snuck into rooms I wasn’t supposed to), we gave each other a knowing look, and off we went for an adventure. I don’t recommend doing this, it could get you into a lot of danger… and no, not even for the plot (sorry to my Kesha-coded girls). We climbed the stairs on the outside of the American Studies Building to get a better view of the stars. We shared a kiss on the balcony, legs hanging from sitting on top of the bricks. The stairs were blocked off as a safety hazard the next week.
This campus is what you make it. You can kiss a person you’ll never see again at the broken piano in the theatre of the Old Teachers College. You can dance barefoot in the rain in Darlington Lane behind the Abercrombie Business Building. You can tell spooky stories in the Quadrangle at midnight. You can be your own fantasy. Stop chasing things that will make your life its very own Pinterest board, and start finding romance within the life you already have.
