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The biggest mistake I made at USC was falling in love

I wondered what I could have done differently.
(Shenho Hshieh / For The Times)
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I’ve had many successes and failures during my undergraduate career at USC. But the greatest mistake I’ve made on this picturesque campus was falling in love.

Don’t get me wrong — love is such a powerful and amazing thing. Everyone wants it, but love has the capacity to be the best and worst thing at the same time, especially during perhaps the most important years of your life while living in a city with endless possibilities.

During college, when you are dealing with the growing pains of maturing and becoming an adult in addition to the everyday stresses of jobs, midterms and friend drama, it sounds ideal to have someone by your side to support you. During this time, though, it’s almost always an imperfect companionship — one with a finite and almost inevitable ending.

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That’s the reason why so many college students are afraid to put their hearts out there in the first place, and in most cases it’s the sense of vulnerability that scares them away. At the end of the day, no one wants to be hurt or have their hearts broken.

Still, I’m a firm believer in true love. Not too long ago, I was fortunate enough to experience it. Before it all started, we were not only friends and classmates at USC, but also colleagues at an on-campus organization, and the gravitation toward each other always seemed to be there — we flirted, exchanged sassy remarks and stared into each other’s eyes for just a few seconds too long. Before you knew it, we began going out with each other exclusively.  

We went on dinner and dessert dates across town, ranging from sushi 21 stories high with panoramic views of the Los Angeles skyline at Takami to the time we saw the Kardashians at the Ivy. Our late-night sweet cravings usually called for chocolate soufflés at Bottega Louie.

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Safe to say, I broke the bank as just a 20-year-old college student at the time. But to me it was all worth it.

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We Netflix-and-chilled, mainly romantic comedies, in my crowded house on Fraternity Row. Ran around on the streets and got lost together like in the movies – inspired by “(500) Days of Summer,” of course.

I especially remember sharing memorable kisses at the summit of Angels Flight.

We did everything with each other: spending late nights studying, playing sports and just being there for each other. Sometimes we just did nothing, but we didn’t care as long we were together.

I fell so hard, almost stupidly. 

Then came the dilemma of when I should say those three magic words.

After about three months of dating, I decided to tell her over her 21st birthday dinner at Spago in Beverly Hills. When she shared that she felt the same way, I could only smile, and so did Wolfgang Puck himself when he stopped by our table with a Champagne toast. It couldn’t have gone more perfectly. The stress was over.

I actually got it right. 

But I was so very wrong.

That would be the last night we should share with each other.

With classes and finals over, our junior year at USC was officially in the books and summer had finally knocked on the door, which unfortunately meant that it was time to head back to our respective homes. (Me in San Clemente, her in L.A.) Even though we wouldn’t see each other on a daily basis, we were still excited to see where the summer would take us, and all of the adventurous things we were going to cross off our bucket lists together: Ocean-view hikes in Malibu Canyon, watching a movie under the stars at Hollywood Forever Cemetery, and taking in a baseball game at Dodger Stadium. 

The day after the birthday dinner, we didn’t say goodbye, but rather “See you later.” I was looking forward to that moment in no more than a week, as we only lived about an hour apart.

But it never happened. 

Over the next few days, I received numerous passive-aggressive texts, or was flat-out ignored. When we finally met up, I wanted to figure out what in the world was going on after everything had gone so perfectly. 

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She didn’t tell me she wanted to break up with me. Rather she told me, “There’s nothing wrong with you... but I need time to figure myself out.”

Exactly a week since the night we shared our love for each other, it was over. 

Sometimes I wish she just straight up broke up with me, instead of getting the “It’s not you, it’s me” answer. At least I would have had closure. Instead, I wondered what I could have done differently. 

It’s hard to think you could give everything to someone – your time, your feelings, your thoughts and most important, your heart, and they still have the capacity to throw that all away. Maybe she wasn’t the girl I thought she was? Or maybe it had nothing to do with who I thought she was, but rather who she wanted to become. 

In college, almost everyone is at different stages of learning about themselves. In other words, a lot of us are still growing and we can be very indecisive. If we can’t even choose a major or where we want to eat, how can we expect to know if we’re truly falling head over heels for someone? 

When falling in love, timing is everything. For most, college isn’t the right time to do so, but just because a relationship didn’t work out in school doesn’t mean another one won’t work out in the future.

Nothing beats the feeling of falling in love, and when I think about it, despite the heartbreak, still all I can do is smile.

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The author is a recent graduate from USC and was formerly a sports editor and columnist at the Daily Trojan. You can follow him on Twitter @dariannourian23.

L.A. Affairs chronicles the current dating scene in and around Los Angeles. We pay $300 a column. If you have comments or a true story to tell, email us at LAAffairs@latimes.com.

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