I first learned about the New York Times column Modern Love right around the time I was about to leave for college. I had recently become obsessed with podcasts, and back then, the column had a podcast.
It was the name that drew me to it. Modern Love. The words spoke to my hopeless romantic sensibilities, developed as a young child watching soap operas and listening to the radio program Delilah with my mother.
Eight or so years later, I still read the column on a regular basis (sadly, the podcast went kaput ages ago). Sometimes, I wholeheartedly agree with what has been written. Other times, I try to put myself into the shoes of someone in a seemingly impossible situation, wondering what if I would do if it was me. And more often than not, I cry. I can’t help it.