I was so stupid. It was easily the dumbest thing I have ever done, something I would (and have) become furious with friends for doing.

It was my freshman year last March, and I was at a fraternity party. I had pre-gamed in the dorms with cheap vodka to help me brave the jacket-free walk to the fraternity house. Once there, I kept drinking. The pre-gaming made the beer, which I normally loathe, go down nice and easy. There was a good cover band, and my friends and I were dancing. Well, they were standing still, but I was dancing next to them.

Then I looked to my right, and saw a guy looking at me. He was cute.

I turned my attention back to the band, but felt eyes on me again. This time, when I looked, he smiled at me. I smiled back briefly, then turned away again. The next time I looked, he was gone.

But I soon felt a hand snaking around my waist. I jumped, then realized who it was. I relaxed. It was drunken frat dancing, my back to his front. Anonymous motions as close to fully clothed, penetration-less sex as possible. I saw my two guy friends exchange glances at each other, thinking, "Who's Torie found this time?"

I ignored them. I was having fun.

Eventually, I turned around, and we did the standard exchange. Name, year, major, hometown. He thought my name was Cori. I didn't care, though, and I let him kiss me. Soon we were that obnoxious couple, making out on the dance floor.

My friends wanted to leave. I waved them off.

We kept dancing, but soon it was getting old. I did what I never did. I asked him to walk me home.

I didn't ask him into my room, mind you. I asked him to walk me back to my place, and he did. We drunkenly hooked up while making our way back to my dorm. And I invited him into my room.

We turned out the lights, and put in a movie.

We got on my bed. He wanted to do more than I wanted to do.

I asked him to stop. And he did.

We watched the movie. I gave him my number. We have now been dating for 10 months.

That's the problem. For every girl we hear about who got raped in a situation like mine, we can think of dozens of girls that nothing happened to. For every girl assaulted while walking downtown at 4 a.m. in full (if you can call it that) party regalia, there are hundreds who made the same walk that night.

If the odds favored danger, we would be more cautious. In Saved by the Bell and the other television shows that served as our models of high school and college life, consequences were harsh, clear and immediate. If you drank alcohol once, you got sick and your parents caught you. If you stole once, you got arrested. If you tried a drug once, you overdosed. If you were a passenger in a car driven by someone drunk, you ended up in the hospital.

However, life doesn't follow that simple formula. The punishment doesn't always, or even usually, fit the crime. One night of poor judgment can get you raped, or a history of drug and alcohol abuse can earn you political office. We cannot predict outcomes, and so we often choose to ignore warning signs. After all, danger does not lurk behind every bush, corner or bar. But the most destructive forces in the world lay dormant for long time periods -- AIDS, the Green River Killer and others. Diseases and problems that strike quickly end up killing themselves off, like Ebola.

Communities like Penn State seem safe, because not everyone knows a victim of sexual assault. Fewer people know a perpetrator of sexual assault. The night I met my boyfriend is one of the happiest nights of my life -- but it could have become one of the worst. The hidden dangers of our town strike without warning, then hide until our local terror warning has dropped back to green. As college students, we tend to live life in a bubble. But that bubble can pop.

If I had been thinking logically that night back in March, I would have left the party with my friends. But I would also be missing one of the best parts of my life. Life is not black and white. Life itself is not liberal or conservative, right or wrong, vegan or carnivore.

Life is conflicted.