Your roommates are being crazy, all your sorority sisters’ couches are taken, and all you want is a bed to sleep in without drama (bonus points if it’s a queen instead of a twin XL). So what do you do? You turn to your home-away-from-home — your boyfriend’s fraternity house. A boyfriend’s bed is everything you need. It’s comfortable, smells like boy (the good kind, not the post-gym boy), and it guarantees morning sex and all night cuddles. It’s so perfect that for some girlfriends (AKA me) it becomes your new full-time bed.
The Honeymoon Phase
The first couple of nights sleeping at the fraternity house is like being let into a club you always wanted to be a part of. You get to hear the new gossip about sorority girls the brothers are hooking up with, and all the shit-talk about the girls you hate from the only mouths that matter: their hookup partners. Then you get to cook dinner for the boys and you feel like a freaking domestic goddess. Then they tell you that you’re the only frat girlfriend they like. Then, like you needed any more encouragement to keep coming back, you get alcohol, sex, and spooning. ALL. FUCKING. NIGHT.
The Married Phase
Okay, maybe you’re getting a little too comfortable together. The couple nights have become six nights every week, dinners are every night, and you’re now participating in the gossip. You’re the girl all the boys in the house turn to when they need a formal date or the latest relationship statuses of sisters, and you feel like you’re friends with all of the brothers. You get waves on campus from the whole fraternity, they refer to you as a brother, and you finally get all the weird inside jokes. You keep a toothbrush, a face wash, and even shampoo and conditioner there. Sweetheart status doesn’t seem out of reach for you, which is why you’re both envied and feared by all of the other girlfriends.
The Far-Too-Comfortable Phase
You need to stop sleeping there. The boys are starting to realize that they don’t see your boyfriend at all and that you take way too long in the shower in the morning. Besides, no boy beside your own should see your face without makeup at 7 a.m. on a casual Monday. I’m telling you, full honest advice, pack up you things and mend those roommate relationships before you ruin your real relationship. No boy can handle an entire fraternity telling him you’re clingy. No. Boy. I don’t care if he loves you, I don’t care if he’s gonna be your fucking husband. Get. Out. Now.
The Breakup Phase
So you didn’t take my advice. You stayed. You thought your relationship could handle a little manly advice. I mean, hello? You bake them fucking enchiladas during the week. What do they have to complain about? I’m sure he gave you a million reasons why, but it was because you slept in his bed every night for two months and his little/big brother put his foot down. So, what now? You give a death glare to those brothers who will obviously never ever know what true love looks like and you make sure he’s on the “Screw Him and You Die” list for your and every sorority on campus.
Happy new boyfriend hunting!.
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