I remember the first time I saw fall leaves fall. I saw the orange color and immediately thought about the sun. I thought about home; I missed it. Soon, I would be cold, running in the winter of a country so strange to me.

I remember the first time I saw fall leaves fall. It reminded me of how fickle emotions can be. It reminded me of my first rejection. I think I took it well, but now I just hate the word “sure” because it is not an enthusiastic “yes” nor a resounding “no”.

I woke up in a state of stunned horror the morning after Donald Trump became President-elect: The States elected a man who is accused of multiple accounts of sexual assault and is an inspiration for growing white nationalist movements. To take my mind off of things, I decided to pick up the Amherst Student to read the opinion section. As I turned the pages of the newspaper, I saw a “Birthright” ad, which is always extremely uncomfortable for me to see as an Arab, especially because it tries to make Game of Thrones jokes.

“I didn’t choose Colgate University because it’s white-dominated,” I told a friend. I said this because I, an Egyptian, an Arab, a Middle-Easterner, would not have been comfortable in a space with lack of representation and an implied obligation to answer an endless stream of questions about my region. She laughed awkwardly, asked if I was afraid of white people and said that I look white. I was instantly confused and wondered why she said what she did. She knows where I’m from.

Life can feel either short or infinite. In our twilight years, people often reflect on their early life as if it is in the distant past. However, “Youth,” written and directed by the talented director Paolo Sorrentino, reminds us that our youthful years unexpectedly manifest throughout our lifetime and to cherish every breathing moment — and that now is the time to be alive.

After biology lab on Thursday, I walked into Frost not expecting much as the memory of Day of Dialogue was still fresh. Filled with people mostly dressed in black, Frost had been claimed as a political space: Amherst students had transformed the physical space of Frost into a home, a political arena and a model of a new Amherst, ushering in a new set of Amherst values and an unprecedented political awakening amongst many.

A great woman once told me, “Love is co-existence and not co-dependence.” I firmly believe that one of the fundamentals of any healthy relationship is allowing your partner to exist independently of the relationship; otherwise, it would never amount to love, but would rather be a battle for power. Fortunately, many Amherst students share my opinion. Nevertheless, I often hear my peers make the following statement: “Well, relationships are like fifth courses.” Whenever I hear this, I cringe: Why would anyone think of a relationship as a burden? Allow me to explain myself.

Ever since I was young, I was fascinated by the idea of true love. With my parents as the love model I would grow to most fervently admire, I was bound to have unreal expectations. They met at a young age, fell head over heels for one another and continue to be happily married. Without doubt, their passion always seemed to be capable of great action, and it was inconspicuous that they quarreled.