11/20/2012 11:45 am ET Updated Jan 20, 2013

High-risk Investments of the Heart: Senior Years and Special Someone's

Conversations with my mother lately have proven to be mind-altering. She's never once -- except now that it's senior year -- has asked me if I was planning on bringing home a "special someone" for the holidays. It was a question I had hoped she would refrain from asking. My first thought was who -- who would I even want to extend the invitation to? My second thought, "How long with they last around my family?" Many guys may think the definition of a "cool dad" is mine, but my strong nature and inability to back down from feisty conversation is a trait I inherited from my mother.

My brothers on the other hand -- a very keen 7 year-old and a teen who is more concerned with sports, girls and high school than any foreign face sitting around the dinner table. All of this made me think who important is to leave college, graduating with the degree I've worked for for the past four years and no special someone to bring to a (to say the least) festive holiday dinner. Of course there will be life-long friendships and unforgettable memories, but subconsciously, I can't help but merely wonder about the idea. The more important question is in place where were encouraged to live fast and die young, to enjoy the last few months of the security of undergraduate life, where is there time, opportunity or ability to give someone a fair chance? What is left of our integrity or our ability to make time for a mate in a generation where our minds are entangled in expectations that we either heard in a song or saw on a television screen?

Coming from a household where my parents met in college and married soon after, one of the most intriguing thoughts I've been replaying in my head lately is the idea of completeness. Forever, people have said, "everybody needs somebody" or "there's a somebody for everybody" Perhaps these over applied clichés carry a certain amount of truth. But what happens when the person you think you know, the person you think exemplifies just a few of the characteristics you're attracted to, shows you the complete opposite? The battle between what you know to be true in your heart and what you can with your carnal eyes have begun. So far, your heart is losing. What you can't prove, but know deep in your heart, is the hardest truth to live with.

It may not be that the expectations were too high, but simply you didn't know the person well enough; you've been captivated by the charisma and potential of a person rather than moved by the contents of the package. You've found that the magic in the moments you thought were moments was indeed an extension of your imagination.

If getting to know somebody is about investing time how can you be sure that your investment isn't high-risk? Won't completely bankrupt you? Ambition of the heart is often blocked by the walls of pain and terror you've experienced. If you've ever realized how emotionally drained you've even been or just how deep your heart have ever sunken before, what's the first step to lifting yourself out of the depths of hopeless love songs and far-fetched dreams? What happens when the time has come to give it a chance, but you feel time is truly running.

More importantly, what happens when the high-risk investment comes along and you find that your assets are simply frozen? That every thing about you that draws the attention of those you have no interest in, that everything (in private) you've assured yourself you're finally capable of showing and sharing is no longer tangible?

The most dangerous mistakes we can make is giving up on the person we think someone is instead of risking everything we want to risk to fall for the person we know they can be. Just because you can't prove it doesn't make it true. The scraps of senior year have the potential to create one of the most beautiful, meaningful pieces of art.