college is apparently all about destroying ideals and dreams
i came to college with this idealistic idea that i’d expand my intellectual horizons, meet fascinating people, and, of course, be swept off my feet by the man of my dreams. a little over than a year and a half in, i feel like i’ve somewhat learned something, but moreso outside the classroom, and what i’ve learnt destroyed most prior notions of anything that i had before coming here. people are boring, a lot of them are the same, and they’re just here to party. a lot of them haven’t seen much of the world, are extremely ignorant, and have no desire to ever be taken out of their comfort zone…its like the only risks they are willing to take is adding another 5 shots to their repotoire or having unprotected sex. which brings me to sex itself. two weeks in to college and i lose my v-card to a 24 year old junior while i’m virtually blackout. two weeks later i meet someone who for whatever reason i’m convinced is my knight in shining armour. false. he turns out to be someone who hurts me more than anyone probably will in the rest of my life. at least i would hope. not to mention allowing him all year to have the ability to determine my happiness. little did i know his interest in me correlated with then the women’s basketball team was away. i got to such a low place where i let unnamed asshole number 2 talk me in to engaging in to suspicious activities with him, while fully aware he had a (slightly insane) girlfriend. oh don’t worry, my guilt led me to tell her. shit hit the fan. i’d completely lost touch with any morsel of who i was.so of course end of last year, even before he basically fucks my friend in front of me (definitely not something i pictured happening to me ever, let alone in college), i somehow get the idea that having sex with a friend of his will somehow make us “even”. he probably doesn’t even know.
fast forward to sophomore year. sleep with three new people before school even starts. what does that achieve? nothing. except for maybe new whore status. back home there’s a guy i’ve met who is basically a version of my college asshole, only slightly nicer, slightly less intelligent, and who looks a lot like biggie. string him along. continue sleeping with the heartbreaker. what am i doing? where is this girl who believed in love, believed she was going to find it? fast fwd to fall break, spend a day in sin with the jamaican. realize probably shouldn’t have right after. great. wonder if people really can be from two different of worlds. not sure how i felt about him remarking i was the whitest girl he’d ever slept with.
back at school. most traumatizing night of my life happens. stop smoking. get mono. slows me down a little bit. devil sleeps over one more time, early december. we hadn’t talked for over a moth. we don’t do anything more than kiss but the entire night was just sexual tension and he tells me he misses my affection. great. i ask myself why, why him, why can’t this ever seem to end. he keeps trying to get in another fuck but i don’t let him. i finally saw him for who he was.
winter break. still hadn’t had sex since jamaican, who i avoid all break. coming to terms with self, with what i’ve become, the fact that i don’t really believe in love anymore. watch a lot of wedding shows, not really helping. its like i want to believe in love, but now i guess its a different type of love, not as fairy tale. i’m too jaded for that now. i see up in the air, sad because of all its truths.
new years. resolutions: no more bad life choices. i then drunkenly said the name of a senior i’d developed a crush on.
first weekend back: “out” downtown. he kisses me. fast fwd a week, we have sex. get dressed. he walks me to the main road and mumbles something about how he has to find his roommate (?) i write long rambling drunken fb message to him.
awkward.
should have said george clooney’s name at midnight.
so here i am a year and a half later. i’ve had sex with 8 people, most of them not more than once. but at the same time that is not who i am. i’m not easy, even though evidence suggests otherwise, i’m just vulnerable and stupid and naiive. i go through phases, or at least i went through one, where i thought that choosing my sexual partners was giving me power, allowing me to be free and i guess in a way it was but not if when you see them on campus they don’t look at you. i’ve lost so much fucking self respect since i’ve gotten here and i’m constantly drunk or high or both to deal with it all. i’ve lost touch with what i want because i’ve realized what i wanted isn’t real, isn’t feasible and for some reason i keep failing at reaching any kind of new paradigm.
