HOLY FUCK

Last week, I wondered how one can capture and cherish a feeling. When I go on holiday, I buy a postcard and write on the back about all the fun things that happened. That way, I can always look back and remember how much fun I had. But there are no postcards for “visiting someone's bed for the first time”. How can I capture the fact that I have never felt so seen and wanted? I'll tell you what, it was worth a postcard.

We were complete strangers to each other, and the lines between us to get to this house party were long. We made eye contact for a fraction of a second. I smiled at you and then quickly looked away. Whatever expression my face made, it apparently worked. You didn't hesitate for a moment to introduce yourself, and before I knew it, we were chatting. In disbelief, I thought to myself: How come this man, who is so good-looking, wants to talk to me? Wow, this is fun!'

After being in a fairly sexless relationship for three and a half years, the first flirtatious interaction is quite an experience, especially when you've been living like a nun for six months after the break-up. I always thought the saying “opportunity comes when you least expect it” was complete nonsense. I didn't really expect anyone to be interested in me. But apparently, there is some truth in it. I wasn't expecting or looking for anything at this party, but you found me.

You also thought it was time to go home at some point. My naive mind also thought it was bedtime, but I knew very well what could happen if we left the party together. I made it easier and lighter by telling myself, “I'll just cycle to your house with you, and when we get there, and I don't feel it anymore, I'll just leave”. But curious as I am, I had to go inside and see what your house looked like.

The house was a mess. What a filthy men's den. But your bed was comfortable, and you made me feel seen and wanted. At that moment, I knew for sure that this was how it should feel. Those three and a half years of nonsense before this couldn't possibly compare. Now that I think back on it, I am so grateful to myself for being brave enough to do this. 

If you had told me six months ago that I would go home with someone, I would have thought you were crazy. But here we are, it happened. Maybe it wasn't love; it was mostly lust, but holy fuck, I would like a postcard of that spectacle.

Holy Fuck, by Caitlin Amels, is one of the nominated columns for the 2026 campus columnist competition. The winners will be announced on Wednesday, 14 January, at DUB's New Year's reception. The two winners (one for the Dutch-language page and one for the English-language page) will each receive the Erik Hardeman stipend (1,000 euros) and publish a column on DUB every three weeks in 2026.