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Love and Lust in the Bubble: One foot outside the bubble

We met long before my introduction to the Bubble, in my junior year of high school. He was a football player; I was a cheerleader and it was cute, cliched and comfortable. Our relationship started out of mutual attraction and then blossomed into something real. He didn’t understand my interest in schoolwork, just as I didn’t understand his obsession with sports, but despite our not having much in common, we were happy together for a year and a half, even when he was in college one state away. 

We proved my senior year that we could handle the long-distance arrangement, so he assumed that we would stay together when I went away to college. We never discussed the future, even after I had decided on Princeton, which would put a whole country of distance between us. I secretly agonized all summer about whether or not to break up with him; deep down, I knew that I wouldn’t be happy staying together once I left for school. But I also knew that seeing the look on his face when I broke the news would hurt too badly. He was my sweet security blanket, and I was scared to cast him off right before moving across the country and starting college. 

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My conflicting emotions led to our staying together, but just days into my Outdoor Action trip, I realized that not talking to him for a week wasn’t all that bad. I returned to campus and began to make friends, but I found it was difficult to be fully present in the Bubble when I had one foot still on the West Coast. By the time frosh week rolled around, I was feeling like a kid in a candy shop, except I wasn’t allowed to eat any of the candy. I had never been around so many smart and attractive boys, and after spending my first few days at the Street, I knew I would be missing out by staying with my high school boyfriend. 

The day of Lawnparties, I called him to say that long distance was too hard and our relationship was over. It was painful; he didn’t understand why I wouldn’t give us more time to try and make it work. He wasn’t ready to let go, so I softened the blow by saying that we should remain friends and that we could reassess our feelings over winter break. The breakup was hard, but I finally felt free to live my life fully in the Bubble. By the time Third Eye Blind performed “Semi-Charmed Life,” I had experienced my first Princeton DFMO. I had always considered myself to be a “boyfriend girl,” but suddenly, I wasn’t quite sure what to be. I was a week into Princeton, single for the first time in over 18 months and feeling both intoxicatingly independent and unsettlingly vulnerable. I decided to shed, at least temporarily, my self-applied “boyfriend girl” label.

A period of fun indiscretions and self-exploration followed. It included a series of sexual misadventures with my mostly gay friend and a friends-with-benefits arrangement with a self-assured football player. That period came to a dramatic crescendo with a personal best of “five-guy Friday” — thank you, Charter. Occasionally, I’d receive texts from my ex-boyfriend. Our conversations were short and polite, and I made sure not to mention his lengthy line of successors. Although I can’t say I missed my boyfriend, I sometimes missed the girl I used to be when I was in a relationship. 

The feeling of missing my former self only strengthened over the course of the semester. Late one Friday night in early December, I realized I was stuck in a romantic rut. I called my mom in tears, telling her that I longed for something more than just casual hookups, but I didn’t think I had the chance of finding it on this campus, even less so on the Street. My mom was more optimistic about my romantic future than I was. She was proven right; the next night I found a true boyfriend prospect on Prospect. I descended the steps into TI’s basement on State Night, and less than five minutes later found myself drenched in beer and dancing with a boy I had never met. We went back to his room and spent the night giggling, talking and smiling goofily at each other. After that we were inseparable: my State Night hookup turned out to be everything I was looking for.

I couldn’t believe how lucky I was to find an amazing boy the night after I had despaired of ever finding someone like him. I discovered that he and I were perfectly compatible: We had similar interests, beliefs and aspirations. We even shared the same odd sense of humor and could talk to each other about anything. I was on cloud nine, but a darker cloud loomed in the distance — the promise of seeing my ex-boyfriend over winter break. When I left the Bubble with the beginnings of a great new relationship, I would be heading home to clean up the broken remnants of my last one. 

My high school boyfriend asked me to meet a few days into winter break. I dreaded facing the fallout of our breakup, but I knew that I owed him that much. We met for coffee and made stilted conversation for a little over an hour. I was reminded as I repeatedly steered the conversation safely back toward college football how little we ever had in common and how much less we had in common now. He eventually brought up the breakup; now that I was no longer protected by distance and the Bubble, I finally was forced to see the hurt in his eyes. He told me how angry he had been and made me answer why I hadn’t given the relationship more of an effort. After half an hour of painful discussion, he asked, “So what, then? Are we just over?” I was upset to realize that while I had been creating a new love life in the Bubble, my old love life had been waiting for me on the outside. I told him that I had a new boyfriend, and he left with the words, “Have a nice life.” I drove away from him nearly in tears. Finally facing the good-bye that I had put off for months hurt more than I expected.

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It took a little while, but we parted on good terms. I was hurt that my quick breakup phone call had caused my ex-boyfriend so much ongoing pain, but I also realized that if I hadn’t ended our relationship when I did, I wouldn’t have been ready to welcome new love into my life when I finally found it. When I returned to Princeton after winter break, I was happier in my new relationship because my loose ends outside the Bubble were finally tied up. Now my boyfriend, the same boy I met at State Night, is rubbing my feet and smiling at me over my computer, and it’s hard to believe that three months ago I was despairing over my love life, when at this moment, I can’t imagine having a more fulfilling one. 

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