A Lonely Lamentation

One would be inclined to believe that being manager of the girls Varsity Volleyball team, or being around girls in leotards for Dance Co would set one onto a path that would lead to a glorious relationship. You would think that being a lean, mean, breakdancing machine would attract women from every quarter of the world.

But alas, I am still more single than an upper who doesn't complain about their 333. I don’t know which of my parents is more disappointed: Coach Shang, or my mother. 

It’s not like I don’t try. I show up to all the cool events, like the ESSO girl scouts and meditation. My mom says that girls like talented guys, so I’ve been hitting the books every night and practicing piano like crazy, but the only people who seem to appreciate my mad skills are the chess players who always hang out in the music building. 

Sometimes I think to myself: why do I even try? Girls understand other girls, and they don’t even like each other, right? But on those lonely winter nights with my books piled up as high as two E&R bags, I rest my head on the cool wood of my desk and wonder what it would be like to rest my head on some girl’s shoulder. 

This game we play... I’m telling you it’s just not fair. Like, hold your horses and listen to this. I was playing a board game with my homies, when suddenly a friend appears and talks about how he had such a great time at the dance that night. And as he is saying this, he pulls down his shirt ever so slightly and reveals two bruise-colored hickies on his neck. That night I lay in bed, hands folded neatly over my belly button, wondering to myself how my friend had more fun that day than I did the whole year.

Recently, I talked to one of the boys in my dorm about it and he told me something similar happened to him. “It’s like when you go to take a physics test, and the teacher was going to curve, but that one international kid from Beijing gets a perfect score, and then doesn’t curve.” 

Being single is not easy. But then again, nothing ever is... except for writing for humor. I’m talking to you preps.