Practically a month after I decided to leave my dream college to transfer somewhere closer to home and less expensive, I found the perfect boyfriend. I wasn’t one of those girls waiting until the end of the semester to spring it on him and tell him we had to breakup because I was leaving. He was fully aware; I guess I’m a catch by some standards. For some strange reason that I’ll never know, besides the fact that I’m fantastic, he felt as though his life was incomplete without me in it, and therefore we are still together, eight hours apart, and not once did we even consider breaking up.
I’m on week three of school and it’s officially been thirty-nine days since I’ve seen my boyfriend and it will be another 23 until I do. I’ve got a roommate whose boyfriend visits every weekend and who thinks it’s cute that I FaceTime mine everyday.
Last weekend was my first experience of “going out” at this new school of mine. The first two weeks I was going through sorority recruitment so I lucked out with not having to encounter any awkwardness at parties. But, the awkwardness hit hard, last Friday night, when I accompanied my roommate to a party. Not just her but her boyfriend, and three other friends, two of whom were together. We get to the party and the two couples, imagine any particular actions you would like because I will not specify, go at it. There’s loud music, smoke fogging up the air and the single kid that we came with has already found his first dancefloor victim. This left me by the stairs, watching the smoke bounce off the ceilings and twisting my necklace around my fingers looking, from what I thought, as lonely as could be. Now, calm down, I wasn’t the weird kid in the corner that everyone pointed at and avoided, because I wasn’t even noticed except when five minutes after arriving I was escorted out by roommate and her friends. That little first experience didn’t leave me with the greatest feeling about going to these parties without someone which seemed impossible because my someone is eight hours away.
So, I am the girlfriend without her boyfriend, and I’ve got to figure out how to be that person. Somehow, my boyfriend picked it up very quickly and it is finally time for me to. The first thing I came up with was to find a group. Not necessarily a new group or new friends or strictly a group of people that all have significant others that are unable to be at the parties too- even thought that’d be sadly ideal. But, this group of friends must be a group of people I’m comfortable with. Comfortable enough with to talk to, to dance with and to simply enjoy everything that’s going on with. The next option I came up with was to get more “juice” in my system and form an identity of “drunk-fun-me”. Sounds like it could be successful but just as dangerous. But that’s not an option because everyone knows underage drinking is illegal (*wink*).
And, I have found myself out of ideas but knowing there’s a way that a whoooole bunch of other people have figured out. I will not be the one whose perfect night is Gilmore Girls and a large white broccoli pizza, even though it may or may not be currently- I don’t want it to seem like it is anymore- even though that’ll be very hard. I want the kind of night that results in a whole bunch of memories, or at least partial ones (not drinking because that’s illegal) and a great night that I can’t wait to share with my S.O. during our next FaceTime date.
