One of the greatest complaints heard from those of us in the post-college vacuum stems from the feeling of being alone—really alone. We just left the world where you live with three other people in order to afford rent and see another thousand or so every day on campus—where “résumé builder” activities force us into contact with dozens of unexpected people and class projects turn into uninvited bonding experiences with miscellaneous classmates. We live in a world where, as “grown ups” we’re supposed to find our own way to work, live in our own place and decide for ourselves who we want to spend time with. We move (or our friends move) to find jobs, and suddenly we find ourselves falling through the cracks of the relationship world. No classmates, no family, no school friends. Just us and whoever we manage to collect.

Now, don’t get me wrong, most of us can spark a conversation with an interesting acquaintance and sometimes manage to turn it into coffee or a date, but most of us still feel alone—if we let ourselves.

In college, I lived with four other girls. I was highly involved in my church’s campus ministry, and pretty much every spare moment I had outside the classroom (and the homework drill) I had somebody to talk to.