Dating in college is a weird thing. We’re not in middle school anymore and, unfortunately, we can no longer rely on the “Will you go out with me? Check yes or no” method. We’re not in high school, either, with our parents there to fasten our chastity belts of embarrassing remarks and early curfews. The fact is that dating (and not dating) past the age of eighteen can be messy. Nothing is black and white. You’re not simply single or in a relationship anymore. It’s more like you fall somewhere on a spectrum ranging from single AF to sending out wedding invitations next week.
Married To Your Education
Some girls choose to spend their classes drooling over the hottest guy in the room and scheming of ways to snag him as a study partner before every other girl goes after him. You, on the other hand, are perfectly color-coding your notes so you can ace the exams, graduate with honors, and rack up the dollar signs as a postgrad. Getting an MRS degree has never been in your brand name agenda. You’re building your empire, and boys, dating, and emotions in general would just get in the way. Who has time for love when you could be writing a young adult vampire series, managing your investment portfolio, or planning all the perfect locations for your future summer homes? Yes, I said “homes,” as in plural.
Single And Ready To Mingle
Everyone complains about the single life, but damn do you have it good. You go on dates with Netflix on the regular. You don’t have to clean your room, like, ever. It’s not like a boy will come over anytime soon, and your friends’ rooms are just as messy so they won’t judge. You never shave — unless you go out. Just kidding, you still definitely won’t, because that’s what leggings are for. Really, you can be a disgusting slob and not give a single fuck about it. Best of all, you can dress really
slutty hot on the weekends and there are no boys back home to worry about. You just made out with a random? Cool. You can do it again in ten minutes, and it affects absolutely nothing (besides maybe your dignity, depending on how good he looks the next morning).
I’m not going to lie — being in the friend zone is the fucking pits. You’ll go on hopelessly thinking there could be more for you in the future, but it only works out the way you want, like, 0.0001 percent of the time. You’re thinking, “Oh, but Premed Donna, if Ryan Reynolds can end up with his BFF in Just Friends, then it can happen to me, right?” Wrong. First of all, romantic comedies are full of more lies than Gretchen Wieners’s hair, which is probably why we all love and adore them. Second, he’s fucking Ryan Reynolds. Any girl would drop her panties at point blank from his single barrel.
Hooking Up With An Ex
Dammit, why is he still texting you? Why do you still love it when he does? Will you ever get over each other? Will it ever be like it was before? These are some of life’s hardest questions, and the answers are sex, everyone loves a little attention (and sex), probably, and no. Sometimes hooking up with an ex happens because you’re both lazy and don’t feel like putting in actual effort to get laid. Maybe you think it will just be innocent fun. Well, that would be all fine and dandy if emotions could be surgically removed and he would stop being a giant asshole. The fact is, deep down, you want to feel like you did before, but that’s most likely never going to happen. It’s time to say your goodbyes to him and his penis, no matter how satisfying those seven minutes may be. Or you can keep hooking up with him, date on and off, and semi-hate yourself for the rest of forever. It’s your life, not mine.
When people go on about having “butterflies,” they’re probably in a talking phase, because after the first few months, that fluttery feeling pretty much disappears. (Sorry, just tellin’ it like it is.) When you’re talking, you stay up until 3 a.m. texting every night, spend time getting to know each other (AKA party together), and attempt to be your sexiest, coolest, and smartest self at all times. On the inside, you’re completely *ObSeSsEd* with him. It’s probably not healthy, but everyone does it, so who cares? On the outside, though, you’re cool as a cucumber — or something like that — until you ask him who he’s texting. Welcome back to square one.
You hang out all the time, hook up all the time, and text all the time, but neither of you has put a label on things. Secretly, you want him to pop the “Will you be my girlfriend?” question, but you also don’t want to freak him out, so you play it chill until he commits. He will commit, right?
Kind Of Actually Dating
You tell other people you’re dating, and you’re obviously going to each other’s formals. As for Facebook? Well, you’re not quite ready for that yet. Who needs Mom, Dad, siblings, and every other family member on the internet to know you’re having sex on the regular? It just means everyone will call you, ask about him, message you, leave comments on your page, and generally do all that obnoxious shit everyone hates. Or maybe you love it, whatever. You’re official enough to at least make his ex-girlfriend jealous, and that’s really all that matters.
“Thank you for the congratulations, Aunt Barb. Yes, he will be at Easter dinner. No, I’m not kidding.”
There’s nothing that says you have him on a leash quite like getting him to go FBO. Your next steps will be convincing him to make Pic Stitches of you for your birthday, getting him to buy you a Yurman, and showing him off at your next family gathering. #Swoon
Ring By Spring
You do absolutely everything together, and you always look so effing cute doing it. Everyone else asks herself how you did it, how you found your soulmate amongst the thousands of drunken college students you could have stumbled into on campus. “It was just fate, I guess,” you sigh, as you gaze into his eyes. He’ll propose to you under some really pretty tree, on a bench surrounded in spring flowers, or at the place where you first met. Then, you’ll post pictures of your amazing emerald cut, white gold band of commitment on every form of social media, and we’ll all wish we were you. *like*.