Listen, it’s been fun. We had some good times, some weird times, and some times I definitely don’t fully remember. Your penis was there for me when I needed it, and for that I’ll always be grateful. But there comes a time in every recent grad’s life when she needs to stop and think, ‘What the fuck am I doing?’ And you know what? I think I’ve finally reached that point.
I’m pretty much an adult now. I can’t be gallivanting off to get some “D” every time you text me at 2 a.m. Those (many) nights spent stumbling back from the campus bars with pizza in tow are behind me. Sure, it was nice to have a familiar penis in my bed. I didn’t even feel the urge to hit you when you spoke most of the time. But I’m far too old and far too educated now to play my college hookup playlist while getting it on. I mean I did just spend $100,000 on a piece of paper to prove my intelligence and worth. Maybe with graduation comes the next chapter of my life, like smooth jazz or something. Irrelevant.
I’m so over the whole “awkwardly running into you and your friends on a bar crawl and half pretending like you haven’t been inside me on more than one occasion” thing. Hate to burst your bubble, but that smile plastered on my face is just as fake as those noises you hear in the bedroom. Here’s a tip for the future: we’re all this crazy — some of us are just better at hiding it.
Those drinks you bought me were cool, I guess. I mean they served their purpose, right? I woke up with no pants on in your bed, so I guess that was $2 well spent. Way to go. I’m an educated lady now, and I think I’m worth more than a $2 well. Like maybe a $5 craft beer. Or maybe even a $6 glass of wine. I’ll get back to you on that.
Now that I’ve (somewhat) successfully completed my college coursework, I basically have nothing else to worry about for the rest of my life. Finding a job in this corporate climate? Psh, piece of cake compared to that one time I had to study three whole hours for my psych exam. I’m pretty sure I don’t need a ride on the bologna pony to work out my stress and frustrations anymore. I’ll just do something adults do, like drink an entire bottle of wine. Or cry while watching soap operas.
I thought about sneaking away from you quietly, much like I do when I roll over at 5 a.m. and see you drooling onto your pillow, but we had some good times, and I thought you deserved a little bit more. So sayonara, see ya never. This is my formal goodbye to you, your nicely constructed penis, and your poorly written drunk texts.
Your bod did its job. A+ in human anatomy or whatever, but class dismissed..