I sat at the counter of a rented house about two miles from my college campus shouting something about the song choice. All the normal ingredients of a rural college party were alive and well- cheap bear, a handle of gas station vodka, two guys competing for one girl’s attention, and a host who was already regretting the whole thing. A girl tried to get a freshman to take a shot for breaking a “house rule”, her voice just a little bit louder than some auto-tuned song that filled the tiny house. People were laughing, dancing, and finally talking to that really, really cute guy in their World Literature class… except a select few. This select few, as we’ll call them for now, sat hunched over the granite island in their own bubble, their faces to their phones like they were reading their grandmother’s will. My roommate, Amy, and I made side eyes, silently but obviously judging. Our friend saw us and mouthed, “she’s texting her boyfriend,”. Amy laughed a sharp giggle and yelled over the music, “if you get a boyfriend I’m moving out,” I responded, “if you get a boyfriend I’m deleting your number,”. We attracted about three dirty looks but at least four high fives. Of course, we didn’t mean what we had said, but in some weird, vague way, we kind of did. And I don’t want anyone to be confused, this is not about hookup culture, or the antisocial kids at parties, or swearing off boys, this is about why I don’t want a boyfriend in college.

I’ve lost a couple friends because of distance, education paths, and just good ole’ fashioned differences. But the worst way to lose a friend is because of a boyfriend. They’ll come in, all tall and handsome, holding flowers, and answering texts immediately. She’ll mention how cute he is in his work clothes and show you his outdated Instagram page that probably has a photo of him holding a fish he caught. It doesn’t seem serious yet, but just wait. It’s like detecting if you got mono from that kid last weekend; you just have to look for the signs. The signs are usually subtle at first but grow more and more prominent.

First, she’ll forget Tequila Tuesday at your favorite Mexican restaurant right off campus. Denial goes hand in hand with this one. You’ll be all “I do have lab pretty early tomorrow” or “we really should finish that project, anyways”. It only gets worse from here. She’ll bring him to lunch with all the girls so you have no where to vent about how your birth control made you gain three pounds- this week. She’ll even stop wearing that really hot top she used to wear on Saturday nights, the one with the mesh in the middle. And, if it’s really bad, she’ll wear a cable knit sweater. Out. She will wear a knit sweater out. If I Instagram a photo of me and my best friend in a sweater it’s going to get about four likes. One will be her boyfriend, so, really closer to three. The final sign is when she says she can hang out with you Friday or Saturday. Thursdays are no longer a weekend, that’s when her and Jeff do homework together. And one night this weekend her and Bobby have to try that new Thai place. So, choose, Friday or Saturday… and remember she’ll be DD because Steve hates when she drinks. You can’t even bank on having a good time either because she’ll be face to her phone telling Dylan how lame the party is to make him feel better. She’ll also get mad at you for using white guy names interchangeably when talking about Matt.

This probably sounds like a lot of college woes and complaints about how I need someone to go out with and make semi-irrational decisions with. And, in some ways yes, it is. Which, for the record, I feel no guilt for- I’m sophomore in college, I want to learn the words to every Nicki Minaj song and open a bottle of four dollar wine with a dorm key. I’m not going to feel bad about wanting to live my life in chronological order. But, all jokes aside, this is about friendship. It may sound cliche or redundant but that guy you just started dating from your macroeconomics class probably is not your soulmate.

You know who is? Your best friend, your roommate, your guy friends, your neighbor who locks your door when you forget, the professor who makes sure your on the Dean’s List. You know who will never let you down? Your best friends, your really lenient RA, the lady who makes your coffee at the campus café. Most relationships end before the lunch break does. There is a time and a place for a significant others but college is not the time.

My best friend will run across campus to deliver me the perfect outfit on a Friday night, my roommate makes it hard to go to bed because we can’t stop talking, my boys make sure I’m somewhat mentally stable. I’m going to remember that for the rest of my life, and they’re going to be on that special setting in my phone so it rings loud no matter what forever. I’m going to tell stories about how we used to run a mile in high heels to get to the party and how we spent rainy Thursdays ordering takeout. I’m not going to remember if Brendan, Brandon, Braydon, or whatever called me on Monday. There is nothing wrong with keeping cute boys close, but for the love of God, keep your best friends closer.