Being a College Single

I wake up in a foreign bed with a pounding headache. "Not again," I say to myself. I immediately search for my phone, not bothering to check to see who I slept with last night. After I see what time it is and check my notifications, I look around the small, rather dirty room. I look back at the bed I just got out of, finding a pretty average looking boy with his shirt off. He’s still asleep. I scurry to squeeze into the tiny piece of stretchy cloth called a bodysuit and a tight pair of skinny jeans. Once I throw on my booties, I try to remember how I got into this place. That way, I can get out. It’s hard to think when you’re hungover.

I get out of the house and find myself on Summit Street and 15th.

Fuck, I think to myself. I’m so far from my dorm. I debate on calling an Uber, but I realize that my shirt is not that low-cut. Plus, it’s 8 AM, so at least it won’t be too busy on High Street.

I start my little journey back to my dorm as I breathe in the fresh spring air. So I didn’t have an orgasm last night, but it sure is a beautiful day this morning.

I get to Busch Hall, the completely beautiful and modern building I got so lucky to be in. The previous year, I was in an ancient hall with no AC.

I ride up the elevator to the fourth floor with another student. He looks like he just got back from class with his book bag on his back. I can see him looking at me. YES! I am walk-of-shaming as we speak! Thanks for asking.

I make it to my floor. My room is the last one on the left. I swipe my ID card and pull the heavy door. I see that the place is empty. My roommate must be at her boyfriend's, as usual. How lovely it must be to have a consistent lover.

I set my purse on my desk chair and immediately slip off my black low-heeled booties. I grab my hot pink towel and stroll to my shower. I turn the hot water on, slip off the monkey-suit I wore last night, and slide into the very tiny dorm shower. I wet my short blonde hair, making sure my face doesn't get wet. I do this so I can take a sexy selfie in the shower. I put on a kissy face and reveal a little bit of cleavage. I snap the picture and send it to my top seven best friends on Snapchat, which happen to be all guys. I hear my phone vibrate and notice I have six Snapchats, one from a guy I had a thing with back in the summer. I never put out for him, so when his reply says “when are we hanging,” I don’t feel surprised. The others say “hot” or “ohh I see you” or something along those lines. My confidence for the day has risen.

Just kidding, but it is nice to hear that I’m attractive. The thing about hearing that you’re attractive, though, is that it kinda gets old.

I finally have time to think about the night before. Obviously I blacked, which does not really surprise me, even for a Tuesday night. I find my new Snapchat friend. Hello. I think I'll call you number fifteen. Fifteen. Fifteen men have been inside me and I have never gotten to cum! Something needs to be done about this. Is there something wrong with me? Or do the guys just suck? Ugh, I give up on boys, I think. None want relationships, none can make me cum. What are they good for? Oh yeah, “a confidence boost.”

It may seem as if I feel very negative about being single. I am not necessarily happy about it, no, but I have realized I am so lucky. Two out of five of my best friends are in relationships. One is extremely happy and feels that they are going to get married. The other is a different story. Although happy, there are things missing.

Me and my friends love to have fun. Although we are only 20, we go to bars and clubs in downtown Cleveland every weekend. Age is really just a number.

These places are filled with men aged 21-35, a sea of men, usually a little wealthy, considering we aren't at a dive bar. And I'm complaining about being single? A sea of men. One fish, two fish, red fish, blue fish. This is an opportunity to try all the fish I want (although I absolutely hate seafood). I have been in the water for very long, tending to swim at top-speed, eager to find my food, but let's just float. Life is short, but it shouldn't be spent stressing about something that does not even matter, at least at this moment. I'm young, but even better, I'm beautiful. Dates, random hookups, a new Tinder match? I'll take it. A male companion, who needs one?