College Stories. My Girlfriend Is Too Naive--- Free Apr 2026
I used to try to fix her. I’d grab her arm when she tried to give her spare change to the guy selling “university-branded” umbrellas out of a van. I’d whisper, “He’s not affiliated with the school, Em. That’s a felony.” She’d just smile and say, “Or maybe he’s an entrepreneur!”
Last month, I had a breakdown. I came back from a brutal organic chemistry exam, convinced I had failed and ruined my pre-med track. I flopped onto her dorm bed and announced that my life was over.
Even if that means losing five bucks to the penny tray once in a while.
“I see the guys in the dining hall stealing from the penny tray,” she continued. “I know the landlord was lying about the water feature. I’m not confused. I just don’t want to spend my energy being suspicious. I’d rather be wrong sometimes and be happy most of the time.” College Stories. My Girlfriend Is Too Naive--- Free
“You know,” she said quietly, “I’m not naïve because I don’t know how the world works. I’m naïve because I know exactly how it works, and I’ve decided it’s too exhausting to live like that.”
She is a political science major who believes that every politician is “trying their best.” She once wrote a five-page paper arguing that negative attack ads should be illegal because they hurt people’s feelings. Her professor gave her a C+ and wrote “Bless your heart” in the margin. She framed it.
I was hooked immediately.
We met during syllabus week. She sat next to me in a 300-person Intro to Psych lecture and actually introduced herself with her full name and her hometown. Nobody does that. You sit down, you stare at your laptop, and you pray the person next to you doesn’t try to share your armrest. But Emily offered me a piece of spearmint gum and asked if I’d ever thought about how weird hands are.
And me? I’ve stopped grabbing her arm. Now I just stand next to her, watching the world try to take advantage of my impossibly trusting girlfriend.
There’s a certain kind of panic that sets in when your phone buzzes at 11:47 PM on a Tuesday. It’s not the panic of a forgotten exam or a missed deadline. It’s worse. It’s the panic that comes from dating the sweetest, most trusting person on a campus full of cynical, sleep-deprived wolves. I used to try to fix her
She still leaves her laptop open in the library when she goes to the bathroom. She still Venmos strangers for “concert tickets” before they hand her the tickets. She still believes that the group project will be different this time.
And I smile, because she’s already figured out something that most of us spend decades learning: you can be smart and still choose softness.
But here’s the part that nobody warns you about: she’s not stupid. That’s a felony
I stared at her.
But three months into the relationship, I realized that dating Emily is like being the designated adult for a golden retriever who has just discovered that doors exist. Everything is a wonder. Everything is an adventure. And everything is a potential disaster.