The Desire to Connect (or, "An Ode to My College Orientation Leader")

Not too long ago, I learned to

think of my life in terms of

the people who are in it,

and the times I share with them.

I began to see everyone around me as

a potentially fascinating person,

worth getting to know, or even just talking to--

interacting with in some way.

And for a year or so, virtually my every action was

driven by this desire to

open up to the people around me,

to reach out to them, connect with them--

as many of them as possible.

 

These days I tend to be slightly more reserved,

and have been focusing mainly on

cultivating my relationships with the people who are

most prominent in my life--

who are naturally closer to me,

and whom I have an obvious reason to come to know;

they are the ones I can tell are worth knowing.

But still,

every once in a while I will meet a new,

fascinating person--

someone less accessible to me, and perhaps

less likely,

given the position I am in relative to them,

to have taken any particular interest in me--

but someone who still manages to

seize my attention; someone I can’t help but

notice.

And when I find myself

continuing to think about that person,

however briefly they were in my life--

wishing I could spend more time with them,

get to know them better,

though somehow I doubt that

they would feel the same way about me--

it is then

that the old desire to connect

returns.

 

Which brings me to you.

 

I just met you recently, at orientation--

and, throughout the two-day session,

I probably spent no more than

twenty-two hours

in your company.

So I’m not sure exactly what it was that

caused me to take notice of you

in the way that I did...

but for some reason, ever since orientation,

so much more than the other freshmen in our group,

I’ve found myself thinking about,

wanting to connect with

you.

It was something about the way

you came across to me--

how you presented yourself,

led the group so effectively--

or your personality...

the way you reached out to all of us,

expressed interest in us, always greeted us warmly...

 

But it must have been on the first day,

when I met you, and you checked me in,

that I began to look ahead and wonder if

I might see you around when I’m here...

and as the day continued, and

you led us around campus,

chatted with me occasionally,

clearly enjoyed my sense of humor,

I came to realize

how much I enjoyed being in your group--

and I started to look at you as someone

I might, potentially, connect with,

become closer with,

at some point down the road.

And, that time on the second day,

when we were signing up for classes, and

I was the first to finish and return to the library,

where you were waiting--

and you greeted me so cheerfully,

eagerly had me call up my schedule

so you could see what I was taking...

and, as we waited for the others,

you chatted with me for a while,

told me that I crack you up...

I think it was then that

my growing fondness of you,

and my resulting desire to connect with you,

truly began to

spark.

 

So, as I think back over those two days,

and the time I had with you throughout the session,

I tend to focus on all the instances when

it was so evident that you enjoyed

getting to know me, and everyone in our group--

the moments of connection--

like the times when you told us to

be sure to say “hi” to you

in the fall, when we’re all here...

 

and, especially,

I find myself thinking about

the hug you gave me

as I left orientation...

 

and, seeing these occurrences as

acknowledgments of our acquaintance,

I find myself wondering: how would you feel about

continuing to develop it,

becoming closer...

connecting further?

I ask myself, such is the nature of this desire:

when you kept saying that you wanted us all to

say “hi” to you,

what exactly did you mean,

or rather,

to what extent--

what did you have in mind?

What I’m trying to ask is:

suppose, for example, I happen to

run into you somewhere on campus,

perhaps as I walk to class one day....

Will we merely say “hi,” wave,

and continue our separate ways?

Or, if we happen to be going in the same direction,

might we walk together for a few minutes

and talk?

 

And what if our paths do not cross

simply by chance? How, then, should I go about

saying “hi” to you, as you clearly wanted me--

all of us--

to do?

Would it be plausible for me to

initiate an interaction--

or even to arrange for us to meet?

I might send you a message on Facebook

asking if we could maybe

get together one of these days--

meet for lunch, perhaps...

and catch up.

 

But would that be plausible? Would it be logical?

You see, I’ve never claimed to be an expert at

these person-to-person interactions--

and if there is one thing I know, it’s that

my desire to connect can sometimes get

out of hand.

So I ask myself:

what would go through your mind if, say,

you checked Facebook after class one day

and found a message from me, out of the clear blue,

asking if we could have lunch together?

Would the twenty-two hours we spent together at orientation

give me enough significance in your life

that you would not be opposed to the idea, or

taken aback in any way by the message?

Because the last thing I’ve ever wanted to do is to

make someone uncomfortable

by trying to connect with them

too quickly, too intensely.

And I remember you mentioning that

you have a boyfriend--

so, keeping in mind the truism that

asking someone out for a meal can,

in certain contexts, have

romantic implications,

I have to wonder: if I,

who has only spent twenty-two hours with you,

were to randomly ask you to lunch,

would you know for sure that

I was not trying to imply anything?

I’ve often thought about the difference between

relationships and friendships,

romantic and platonic interactions--

wondered what separation exists between the two,

what difference there truly is,

and, especially,

whether the presence of a relationship can, in any way,

restrict the formation of a platonic friendship.

But I never wanted my efforts to form friendships

to infringe on anyone’s relationship--

so if, in pursuing a friendship with you,

I made you think even for a moment

that I was after you romantically,

freaked you out in any way...

I would never forgive myself.

And...even if you understood that

I meant no harm to your relationship,

knew I simply wanted to get together as friends...

would you have any desire

to get together, in that context, with someone

you had only known for twenty-two hours?

 

But I remind myself that

I have often become self-conscious

regarding these kinds of interactions;

my tendency to consider how I come across to people

sometimes leads me to overthink it,

and becomes a hindrance, limiting my confidence

as I attempt to reach out to people.

With that in mind, I put the issue of

how you would react to such a message

temporarily out of my mind--

and I let myself believe,

if only for a moment, that

the message, random as it is,

would not seem forced, or artificial, or unreasonable...

that you would be delighted to get together...

 

And so, we would re-connect, talk,

get to know each other better,

find out fascinating things about each other...

and, if we both find that

we enjoy the time we spend together--

if there is sufficient mutual interest to

expand our acquaintance,

to continue to develop it--

we might decide to

get together again sometime soon,

perhaps in a different context...

 

and, eventually, out of this continued interaction

and shared enjoyment of each other,

a friendship

just might emerge...

 

a friendship not limited by

the difference between our majors,

or even the age gap between

me, a freshman,

and you, a senior--

because I know that in high school,

friendships can exist readily

between people in different grades...

and I have experienced close,

platonic friendships

that have existed, thrived,

even when one or both friends have, themselves,

been in relationships.

So why should these things be any different

in college?

And, while there are undoubtedly

varying degrees of friendship,

there is no set definition,

no specific conditions that must be met

in order for an acquaintance

to qualify as a friendship;

rather, all that is necessary

for two people to see themselves as friends

is that they enjoy each other.

So, I assure myself that

if we continue our interactions,

we will inevitably come to

consider ourselves

friends...

and so I let myself think ahead to

what our friendship might hold for us.

Perhaps, as we spend more time with each other,

we might one day find ourselves sitting together

on the bench by the lake,

talking about life,

and simply enjoying each other’s company

the way that friends do...

 

Now, I must warn you:

there is something you should know about

me and platonic friendships--

a certain mentality I tend to have

when pursuing them

that I wouldn’t want you to misunderstand.

You see, friendships are extremely important to me;

indeed, they are at the center of my life

in the same way that romantic relationships

might be at the center of most people’s lives.

And, because of the role that friendships play for me,

and my subsequent desire to connect with people

in the context of a friendship,

there are certain things, specific types of interactions

that might ordinarily be slightly more associated with

romantic relationships--

or at least somewhat safer, somewhat more logical

within the confines of a relationship...

but these are things that I have done before

to platonic friends,

and, perhaps for that reason,

without the possibility of these things,

such a friendship might not feel complete,

might not fully satisfy my desire to connect...

 

What I’m trying to say is:

if I sense us becoming closer,

if our level of acquaintance reaches a point where

I am convinced that you would be okay with this--

perhaps as we sit together

on the bench by the lake--

there is a chance that I will

make some sort of random, affectionate gesture

toward you.

I might touch you--

wrap my arm around you, or

rest it on your shoulder...

or I may just randomly compliment you--

tell you that you’re fabulous,

or that I enjoy hanging out with you.

And I hope that, when I do,

it won’t make you uncomfortable, and you won’t

take it in the wrong way,

think I was trying to make a pass at you;

you’ll know I was simply

expressing my affection for you,

letting you know how much I enjoy you

and the times we spend together...

 

But as I think about it, I start to realize...

this is my desire to connect

going too far,

beginning to get the better of me

once again.

In the past, it has given me delusions.

I have, on multiple occasions,

put myself in awkward positions

by pursuing my desire to connect with someone

too confidently,

and getting so caught up in my idea of

how I want to relate to a particular person

that I don’t think twice before

acting upon that desire.

So now I take a step back,

or two,

and I look at this notion of

us becoming friends

through a more realistic lens...

 

and, even though in high school

I was able to form close platonic friendships

with people who were in relationships,

I start to feel like such a thing would, in fact,

be less likely to happen in college:

a college senior is undeniably an adult,

and closer to the age of commitment,

so they would undoubtedly take a relationship

much more seriously, much less lightheartedly

than, say, a high school sophomore.

So, reluctantly, I resign myself to this realization--

and force myself to admit, not only that

you would almost certainly not

allow me to touch you,

or tolerate any of my “random expressions of affection,”

but also...

since the vast majority of your social life

is surely focused on your boyfriend,

with the remaining space most likely filled by

whatever friends you already have,

I have no chance of ever achieving

anything resembling a close friendship

with you--

and so, it is not realistic to think that

we would end up sitting together

on the bench by the lake.

 

But maybe the notion of a friendship that close

is not truly necessary for me to

find fulfillment in our interactions,

to satisfy my desire to connect--

maybe I could find the same fulfillment

in something simpler,

more realistic.

A more casual friendship--

nothing deep or profound, just close enough

that we consider ourselves friends--

might not be out of the picture.

We could still see each other occasionally,

and we could certainly enjoy

what time we do spend together...

so, returning to the earlier,

perhaps more feasible, notion of us

having lunch together,

I turn my thoughts to the acquaintance

we might carry on from there,

the times when we would have the opportunity to

chat for a while.

We’d definitely tell each other about

our respective majors and classes...

we might talk about our favorite movies,

or music,

and maybe I’d introduce you to something

that you’d end up enjoying...

and, if you are sufficiently intrigued by it,

I might give you the link to the website

where I publish my writing--

these are all things that can happen

between two casual friends...

 

and, actually, there are no steadfast rules

dictating what a casual friendship

can and cannot involve...

 

so, surely, there is nothing that states that

two people who are merely casual friends

are not allowed to sit

on a bench by a lake

together...

 

But I catch myself migrating once again

toward an unrealistic scenario--

so I force myself to stop, take another step back,

and, this time, look at the big picture,

and face the facts:

the fact that you are a senior and

I am a freshman;

the fact that we don’t have the same major;

the fact that you have a boyfriend,

and, most likely, numerous other friends--

people your own age,

people you know better than me

and would almost certainly rather hang out with

than me.

I begin to see

the separation that exists between us

on almost every possible level,

and leaves no obvious, legitimate reason

for us to connect...

except for my own arbitrary desire.

In desperation, I think back,

return to the simple notion of

asking to meet you for lunch...

and I realize I would need to find

a way to word the question

that, in addition to not having

the slightest romantic implication,

would somehow seem natural and logical

coming from me, who has only known you for

twenty-two hours...

 

and I face the truth:

I was only one of twelve people

in our orientation group,

which was only one of the fourteen groups

you led.

So, regardless of how significant you are to me,

I have no more significance in your life

than any of the other freshmen--

over a hundred of them--

who had you as their leader.

You would have no reason to want to connect

specifically with me--

to see me on any regular basis,

or to become any closer with me

than you are with all those other freshmen…

no reason to form

any kind of friendship

with me.

 

Yet, I remember something...

and just as I start to lose all hope of

forming a connection with you,

my thoughts turn once again to

the hug you gave me

as I left orientation...

 

and I do realize that I was almost certainly not

the only incoming freshman you hugged,

so your reasons for hugging me as I left

probably had more to do with formalities

than with anything about me specifically--

but still,

the fact remains that

you hugged me...

 

and although a hug means different things

to different people,

so I have no way of knowing what this one

meant to you,

what your specific intention was,

I must have made a certain impression on you

if you were so willing to hug me

after knowing me for only

twenty-two hours...

 

so, in response to that impression, whatever it was,

there must have been something specific that

you were trying to convey--

some aspect of how you felt about me

and the fact that we now knew each other.

And, since you hugged me at the end of the session,

as I was leaving campus,

perhaps you were even thinking in terms of

the continuation of our acquaintance,

what it might become,

as I left orientation

but moved toward a year when

we would be on campus together...

 

and, with all that in mind, I have to wonder

whether you saw the hug you gave me

simply as an acknowledgment of our acquaintance,

or as a sign of wanting to

continue to develop it,

to continue to connect...

a sign of friendship.

 

I now realize I must look at everything

through an entirely different lens...

and that lens is this:

as much as I speculate, I can never know for certain

how you think of me, or

what you would or would not want with me.

Thus, I have no way of knowing right now

what will become of our acquaintance,

and what, if any, degree of friendship

we will end up having--

because, for all I know, you could be

just as happy for us to connect

as I am...

 

and, therefore,

there is no need for me to figure out

what could and could not realistically happen,

no need to know right now

what the end result of our acquaintance will be...

because it is not that end result

that matters most;

it is how we get there,

the process of interaction by which we

achieve whatever that end result is--

and perhaps most important is that

we enjoy whatever time we do spend together

along the way;

for this is the process of connecting...

 

and so, if I want to become closer with you,

I need only

make a connection,

re-visit our acquaintance

with an open mind...

and then simply let it progress naturally,

let whatever happens

happen.

 

So...I suppose that

what I’ve been trying to tell you all this time is...

well,

I guess I just wanted to say

how much I enjoyed meeting you,

getting to know you

even if it was only for those twenty-two hours...

and what a significant impression you made on me;

I’m just...

so glad I had you as my orientation leader.

And whenever I think about all those times when

you told us to say “hi” to you this fall,

I can’t help thinking that

sometimes people express their desire to

keep in touch with someone,

and they still end up falling out of touch

because they were counting on the other person

to be the first to make contact...

 

and I may be only one out of

all the freshmen you had in your orientation groups,

but you were the only orientation leader I had...

and I do sincerely hope that

I haven’t seen the last of you.

 

Yet I feel sure that I will, in fact, be

seeing you around.

I’ll undoubtedly run into you on campus

sooner or later,

perhaps as I walk to class one day--

and when I do, if we happen to be

headed in the same direction,

I hope we can

walk together for a while

and chat...

 

and, if all goes well,

as a result of that chat,

we just might both experience

a spark of interest--

a reason for us to

connect.