This is no Steve Avery case, there is no debating if I am guilty or innocent, the evidence proves the verdict, and I’m found guilty on three counts: dating homicide, breaking of hearts, and not learning from my past experiences.
Being a product of divorced parents that split far before I was able to walk or talk, I can easily say that my parent’s situation plays into how I am now, and I didn’t realize that until I met more people like me (and watched Ghosts of Girlfriends Past).
My mom is my best friend, but a sucker for love (definitely where I get it from) and was in all different relationships while I was growing up with her. My dad is an honest, laid back guy whom I believe loves come to naturally, and he was only in two relationships after my mom that I can remember. These two very influential people that I get to call my parents procreated quite a mix of both of them when they made me. So, here I am. Single as can be, constantly searching for the relationship my parents didn’t have, and coming to terms with why I am the way I am.
Here’s where I think it started. I was the first of my friends to have my first makeout. It was in 5th grade and I still remember every second of the awkward bathroom kiss at my friend’s birthday party with one of my first boyfriends. Prior to this monumental moment in my life, I had written that boyfriend at the time a note in class that got confiscated and emailed to my dad. The note read something along the lines of, “Have you ever done it before? I’m a virgin.” Don’t get all in your own head now thinking I was about to have my first bone sesh when I was like 11 — I thought being a virgin meant I’d never swapped saliva of the mouth before. My dad made it clear that I was mistaken.
Then came high school, when I had one to two different boyfriends per year and then finally discovered the wonderful world of single my senior year. Let it be noted that I was always the heart breaker. I get bored faster than ice cream melts, and I can’t fake how I feel.
When college came, I think I had it in my head that you meet your soulmate whilst away at school. Before I knew it, I was in my first college relationship within my first month of being away from home. That relationship rocked, but come spring semester I wanted my alone time and thought I was potentially wasting the best years of my life being tied down while in college. That was the first time I actually think I broke someone’s heart and definitely a little bit of my own.
So I utilized the shit out of being single — I met new boys once I got into a sorority, I hooked up with the boy I would always see on campus, and I continued to hook up with my ex and caused numerous problems by doing so. But even though I knew I was hurting people with how promiscuous I was acting, it wasn’t long before it was out of sight out of mind, and I never felt guilty for longer than an hour. I love to be loved, but I also love being single. It’s safe to say some may consider me on the slutty side, but when I hook up with different guys, I always find myself wondering if I could see a future with that person, even if it’s just a random make out at the bar. It’s a curse I can’t beat.
Sophomore year — the loneliness that I hadn’t felt in forever sunk in. I was keeping myself busy by using Tinder, hooking up with guys I’ve hooked up before, and blacking out with my friends close to every night. Then the little mischievous devil on my shoulder whispered to me, “You know you want to message that one undateable hot boy on twitter. Get in those DMs, date like a man. Get yourself into some trouble. Do it, you won’t, I know you want to. Get yourself into something you know won’t end well, it’ll be fun.”
Welp, I did, and what I assumed would be a one-time thing turned into the best relationship I’ve ever had in my life, or so I thought.
I was in a great relationship, we barely fought, we liked all the same things, and we loved each other. What I didn’t realize was that it was ruining my relationship with someone far more important — my best friend. By spending all my time with my boyfriend, it caused issues with my best girlfriend/roommate/pledge sister, and I wasn’t prioritizing her, the person that I knew would never leave me. But serial daters just can’t understand that, we think in the moment and we listen to what our cold little hearts tell us to do, even when we know it’s a bad idea deeeeep, deep down.
Because I am an asshole who knows exactly how to ruin a good thing, we broke up after just six months. I cheated on him the last night of fall semester, and my way of dealing with it was constantly trying to see the bad in my boyfriend, to justify my actions, which ended up just creating a plethora of hate between us during and after our failed relationship.
I can’t accept guilt, I always try and pin it on someone else, and that is probably my biggest downfall. Serial daters, man — we’re fucking complicated and shit.
I want everyone reading this to learn from my mistakes. I want you to know that looking for love is not the answer. Tinder is not the answer, thinking in the moment and not taking serious consideration of the future is not the answer, and serial dating in an attempt to find “the one” is definitely the furthest thing from the answer.
Your college years are your time to experiment, have fun, and make life long friendships. Oh, and let’s not forget they’re also your time to get your shit together, study, and get a degree so that you’re not sliding down a pole in your neighborhood strip club for bald men and high schoolers with fake IDs. Don’t waste your years looking for love, listening to what people have told you about meeting your future husband at school.
Don’t confuse lust with love. Don’t confuse being lonely with being bored. Don’t commit yourself to something you’re unsure of. Don’t waste your own precious time. Learn to come to terms with your mistakes and use them as learning experiences. You are a young, hot, funny, more than likely sexually frustrated woman that doesn’t need a man, but instead, just need a strong drink, a best friend, and a vibrator. But not all at the same time — don’t make things awkward. .
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