V-DAY: Girlfriends just wanna have fun

To all the so-called unhappily single students out there, spare me the drama. Stop moaning about your pathetic love life – or lack thereof – because college is the one place where being single is accepted, even celebrated.

The singles culture is everything that college represents: floor-mances during freshman year, drunken hook-ups at house parties, spontaneous plans with friends on a Friday night. When it’s 10:45 p.m. and my girlfriends decide to hit up a party they just heard about, I’m probably already at a movie with my boyfriend. Days later, when my friends are still recounting the hilarious memories of that night, the only thing I can contribute is a laugh.

When I do participate in a girls’ night out, it isn’t exactly the time of my life. For someone in a Cory-and-Topanga-esque relationship, it’s just another instance of my status as an outsider. My friends are off meeting new boys and collecting juicy stories for the next morning’s gossip session while I wander around aimlessly.

Relationships aren’t all they’re cracked up to be. The countless minutes of arguing over phone calls and texting could be dedicated to sleeping or raising my subpar grade-point average. The numerous hours I spend sitting through mindless action movies could be spent on baking, reading or doing another activity of my choice, and I would save a few bucks in the process.

The constant threat of separation when we were deciding on colleges was no walk in the park, either. Even two years later, the classic relationship hurdle of being long-distance looms over my head like a black cloud whenever I consider studying abroad or taking an internship across the country.

You would think Valentine’s Day is the highlight of my year, seeing as how I’ve been dating someone for four-and-a-half years. Alas, it’s nothing more than yet another reminder of how atrocious I am at getting my boyfriend gifts.

It goes something like this: He orders me a custom-made painting from Hawaii, and I buy him socks and a saucepan and forget the card.

But he never makes me feel like the ultimate failure I am when it comes to special occasions. He won’t even make me feel bad after reading this article, which will undoubtedly offend him. Instead, he’ll carefully cut it out and tape it into a scrapbook filled with everything I’ve ever written.

And at the end of the day, I’d rather have a best friend, boyfriend and super fan rolled into one than a textbook college experience.