Love is blank. At least, to me it is. I’ve had some highs, some lows. I’ve had crushes become real. I’ve had heartbreaks that lingered too long. 

But I haven’t had that it-factor, life-consuming psychosis that everyone writes songs and poetry and movies and everything ever about. What a bore.

I don’t mean to sound ungrateful. I have no shortage of love in my life: love from my family, my friends. And certainly a lot from the place in which I spend most of my time — the Daily Trojan newsroom.

I’d find it hard to name another place on USC’s campus where I am more loved, and where I love most. But each DT editor leaves the newsroom, albeit at varyingly harrowing times of night, and finds their own way through love’s tendency to make fools of us all. The members of DT’s dedicated masthead are loved and themselves love, beyond the walls of the Student Union.

Fabián Gutiérrez, associate managing editor

Love is risky. 

We show a new side of “The Self” to those we love. That risk is not to be taken lightly.

I’m a gambling man. I’ve won big now, but I remember playing a very big hand and losing to the house. I risked recklessly, I showed a little too much of myself, and the dealer wasn’t particularly careful.

Like cardboard boxes labeled “fragile” being launched onto a front porch, a gentle, vulnerable allowance can turn into hurt. You can share your hopes, dreams, insecurities, pains and fears; you can reveal a version of yourself unknown to anyone else, and they can use that against you. 

A person you love, since we seldom choose who we love, can be all kinds of wrong for you. They can have ulterior motives. They can have their attention pulled in all sorts of different directions. They can be so wronged themselves, they know no other remedy than to do unto you what others inflicted before. They can be all kinds of bad. 

You might just gift your poor, defenseless heart to someone undeserving. But you have to play the odds anyway. Because you have to buy a ticket to win the lottery. And once you do, you’ll be thankful you went all in.

Noah Pinales, digital managing editor

Love is regret. 

This past June, I lost my best friend, first love and so much more to cancer. When I got the call from my high school counselor that confirmed the news I had dreaded for months, I didn’t feel anger or sadness, just regret. 

For weeks, all that ran through my mind were the moments I wished I had said more, and the cancelled plans that stopped me from seeing him one last time. These feelings began to taint my memories, making me feel undeserving of them because of how much I failed to be there for him.

Over time, I have started to learn how to live with this feeling of regret. I no longer take it as a sign that I failed him, but rather a reminder of how much I loved him and still love him, and how much he meant to me. 

I still send him TikToks and song recommendations, because I know that he appreciates them as dearly as he did while he was still here. I just regret not being able to hear him laugh again or say anything back.

But just because I don’t have him physically doesn’t mean that my love has nowhere to go. I know that he can still feel it, because I do too.

Bennett Christofferson, Sports editor

Love is contentment.

I’m writing this on the night of our two-year anniversary. They’re still at home visiting family for Thanksgiving, so the celebration wasn’t more than a phone call and a pair of Instagram posts, but it was enough.

Tomorrow, they’ll drive back to Los Angeles, carrying all the light in the world with them, and we’ll get coffee and catch up and tell each other stories and everything I’ve ever feared or worried about will melt away in the distance.

It’ll be one of those moments I don’t think much of at the time, but won’t stop thinking about when I’m stuck at home doing math homework instead of lying in their arms. The simple moments are the ones I treasure the most; they remind me how lucky I am to love so easily.

I don’t feel the need to wax poetic about how in love I am or how grateful I feel to have such a kind and understanding partner; I’m a sports writer, so the words would probably fail me even if I tried. I know how I feel, so what else matters?

Tomorrow is just another one of our days — there have been hundreds before it, and there will be thousands after — yet I can’t wait for it all the same. 

Anna Jordan, Arts & Entertainment editor

Love is blank. It’s filled in, it’s erased, it’s written in pen and lipstick alike. It’s heralded by all and felt freely by the lucky few. But it’s there. 

The adjective is unique from person to person, but regardless of what ties us together or what fills in the blank, love is, between us here at the Daily Trojan.