For those of us who unashamedly use lectures as an excuse to peruse our repetitive, vapid and yet somehow still entertaining Facebook feeds, the exceptionally rapid rise of Crushbridge will not be unfamiliar. Those fortunate enough to have a social life and the ability to maintain concentration for more than ten minutes, however, perhaps may not yet be acquainted.

Crushbridge, following in the footsteps of the hitherto more successful Memebridge, is a Facebook group for Cambridge students, which, much like the latter succeeds in producing content that is as light-hearted and charming as it is painfully emblematic of the deeper struggles of living inside the ‘bubble’. Where Memebridge offers catharsis by means of humour, Crushbridge liberates the romantics inside of us, while simultaneously providing its readers with the opportunity to snigger at the comicality of some of its, to put it politely, more endearing submissions.

“Take this moment to bask in its exhibition of awkward yet charming romanticism, as it is inevitably going to be short lived.”

Ranging from the genuine, to the absurd, to the borderline obsessive, Crushbridge reveals to the world a side of Cambridge-ness we perhaps tend to suppress. From Classicists confessing their love in Latin to love-struck singletons coming clean about their infatuation with towers, for someone who shies away from the Cambridge stereotype, Crushbridge can be a little too much at times.

Despite its unapologetic proliferation of the Cambridge typecast, however, the page provides a heart-warming relief from the influx of fake news and bad memes that seems to have taken over Facebook as of late. Witty one-liners that leave it all to the imagination are, in my opinion, better than the slightly more overt declarations of affection that occasionally slip-through the vetting process, emojis and all.

While Crushbridge permits us to dabble in the art of romancing, the very nature of its existence denotes a somewhat melancholy undercurrent. We need only cast our minds back a year, to the page’s predecessor, Cambridge Tell Her/Him, to be reminded of the temporary nature of social media ‘fads’ and ‘crazes’. In the past week, Crushbridge has received over 1,500 new likes and is being ‘talked about’ by 1,046 people. The same statistics on the depressingly inactive page of Cambridge Tell Her/Him show that exactly 0 people have talked about, followed, or seemingly even registered interest in the page for months. Considered in relation to the 5,180.6 per cent decrease in interest on the previous week Crushbridge has witnessed, it paints a solemn picture. Is the romantic age of Cambridge already on its way out?

The case could be made that, like Memebridge, Crushbridge may cling on for just a little bit longer than it should, perhaps it will even become a parody account of itself (like Memebridge…) but it seems destined to lose the innocent, pure, and oh-so-sweet sentimentality that it started life with. Thus, we should take this moment to bask in its exhibition of awkward yet charming romanticism, as it is inevitably going to be short lived. Part of me, deep down, hopes that I am proven wrong in the coming weeks as I witness new love flourish around college. The rest of me, however, dreads the possibility that Crushbridge will decay into cringe and regret.

Milo Yiannopoulos calls on Cambridge to help Trump

This time next week, we may all have moved on and forgotten Crushbridge. But there will always be something to take its place. Cambridge Confessions, perhaps…