Words by Lucas Robertson (@lucaswrobertson)
I take my clothes off and hope it makes you stay
I want you to touch me
So you want me more.
Hold me here
And don’t let go.
Please stay with me
I’m afraid of the dark
Don’t go.
You can have what you want.
Will you stay?
Can you hold me
It’s been a while.
I’ve missed this.
Are you okay?
Is this what you wanted
The skin of my body
Or the beating of my heart?
Who do you want,
Can it be me?
For tonight even
Can we pretend
Just this once
That I’m who you want.
Dating has evolved throughout the 21st century into an endless, exhausting pursuit that ultimately amounts to messages left on delivered, messages left on read, or a multi-month-long non-relationship-relationship. Amongst the curated dating profiles on Hinge, or the hottest person you’ve ever seen in your life on Raya who conveniently lives thousands of miles away, there is an underlying tension driven by the desire and need for intimacy mixed in with the fear of missing out on the “right one” at the next swipe.
Our generation and our brains have been trained to seek instant gratification. We grew up on Snapchat, Instagram, and TikTok; we have a never-ending stream of “possibilities” at our disposal that we can dismiss with the next swipe, along with any desire for our match we’ve left on delivered for 3 days. We consciously and subconsciously decide who and what type of people we want based on highly curated secondary content posted by beautiful people on TikTok and Instagram—people we will most likely never meet in our day-to-day lives, or on Hinge, even with the location set 100 miles away.
We do nothing about it, though: we keep doom-swiping, and we keep calling the people who are confident enough to break the digital mirror of dating cringe or too forward, and we continue to adjust our standards and goals based on fleeting opportunities for connection. Social media has falsely expanded our sea of prospects, while simultaneously icking us out of desiring the real people all around us.
Fleeting sexual encounters can only do so much to curb that desire deep inside all of us: the desire to be wanted. It’s not necessarily about love, regardless of its form; every person has loved, or been loved in their life.
It’s about chosen love. Regardless of one’s familial upbringing, having someone choose to be with you, desire you, and love you completely for who you are ultimately cannot be replaced. It’s chemical, universal; the connection between two souls is the driver of our humanity.
How many one-night stands does it take to become numb to it all? How many situationships does it take to find someone who wants to see you during the day and not just through a late-night text? How many times will it take to rebutton your pants, put on your belt in an awkward rush while leaving a stranger’s house, before it becomes more pleasurable to be alone?
Connection is not a black-and-white process; it's complicated and full of uncertainty, but I believe that so much of my problem, and so much of Gen Z’s problem, is that we’ve used the gift of technology to hide from our feelings and natural inclinations. We, overall, have become cowards when facing things head-on without the mask of our screens and online personas. Notably, only about 56% of Gen Z enter adulthood having engaged in a romantic relationship, compared to 75% of members of older generations, according to a survey conducted by the Survey Center on American Life.
How many of us are shooting our shots with the cute person we see also buying cheap Trader Joe’s wine? How many of us are telling our discussion crush how we actually feel, instead of just following them on Instagram after stalking their full name on bCourses? How many of us are willing to end a good friends-with-benefits relationship in order to advocate for wanting something more of it? As much as we may find ourselves judging our parents for being cringe, or continue viewing their stories as hypotheticals, they were simply okay with rejection, and okay with being “cringe” to shoot their shots. Also, I unscientifically believe they were way better about setting up friends with friends (can we do that more?).
As 2026 comes to an end, I’m working towards remaining strong in my relationship goals and desires amidst droughts of good ‘huzz,’ canceling my Raya, and not falling into the temptation of experiencing sexual intimacy to supplement the loneliness of something greater.
Cheers to shooting more shots, going on more dates, and blocking anyone who sends a “WYD” text after 10 pm.
