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A single's guide to Valentine's Day

12:48 p.m. — You wake up thinking about “The Bae” and how he/she/ze is wonderful and perfect. You wish he/she/ze could see that, but for all you know he/she/ze might only see you as a friend, which hurts like hell, but you still love he/she/ze anyway.

12:49 p.m. — Hardcore Facebook stalking.


12:53 p.m. — You find that “The Bae” hung out with one person in particular, “The Other,” hella lot last semester. You pray that the romance has ended.

1:22 p.m. — You plan on having brunch with some friends, but once you sit with them, one of those awkward “we-have-to-leave-as-soon-as-you-sit-down” events happens and you end up eating by yourself. You pretend to mess around on Yik Yak and listen to music, even as the loneliness envelops you.

2:04 p.m. — Since you're already way behind two weeks into the semester, you head over to J-Street to do some readings for class. You notice all the canoodling going on. Don’t they know this isn’t the place for that? You think of “The Bae” and immediately envy the love that radiates off of these couples. Well — you actually can’t tell if you envy their love or if you want to smash it into itty bitty pieces out of the pure rage and jealousy that have lived in your heart for more than eighteen years. Eventually, you decide to leave that dreaded love-nest return to your room to work.

5:09 p.m. — After failing to make your planets orbit correctly on N-Body for the hundredth time, you take a break from COS 126 by heading to the Wa for a snack. You place an order for a sandwich and a smoothie. While waiting, you notice the lovey-dovey Valentine’s Day set-up with pink candy on display and paper hearts saying "Love Me Always" and "Swipe Right." You throw up on site and leave the store before your sandwich is done. Then you go back to your room and bury yourself in your books, pretending that you never stepped outside into the cruel world.

6:38 p.m. — You eat dinner with your friends, content to know that they're not getting away so easily this time. But alas — they all have significant others, and you are the seventh wheel. They look down on you in romantic condescension. But you're tough — you have chosen not to care. You are like the ugly duckling, the little engine that couldn’t, the bae-less among the baes and you couldn’t care less. Single and proud.

7:03 p.m. — Just kidding. You care. You really care. You see your friends holding hands with their respective lovers and DEAR GOD WHY CAN’T YOU HAVE HAPPINESS LIKE THAT.


7:04 p.m. — You feel like breaking out into "Teardrops On My Guitar," but restrain yourself. "Trouble" is better.

8:12 p.m. — You go to your room and cry until you fall asleep. You dream of despair and pain. And T-Swift murdering her boyfriend in "Blank Space."

11:29 p.m. — You wake up to the rowdiness of the pregame next door. While the last thing you want to do is interact with others, you are in dire need of several shots and decide to take advantage of the situation.

11:43 p.m. — You arrive at the party. You spot “The Bae.”

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11:46 p.m. — Shot #1.

11:47 p.m. — You take deep breaths and try not to let “The Bae” see you gasp in the presence of his/her/hir glory.

11:48 p.m. — Shot #2.

11:49 p.m. — You notice that “The Bae” is hanging around “The Other” a lot.

11:51 p.m. — Like, a lot.

11:52 p.m. — Shot #3.

11:53 p.m. — This pregame sucks, and the emptiness you feel reminds you of your wounded, dying heart.

11:54 p.m. — Shot #4.

11:55 p.m. — Shot #5.

11:56 p.m. — You hate this pregame, you hate this school, you even hate this country for shoving love and happiness down your throat when the only emotions you feel are sadness and misery.

11:57 p.m. — Shot #6.

11:58 p.m. — You need to leave. You must leave. You approach the door.

11:59 p.m. — “The Bae” notices you leaving and stops you in front the door, striking up conversation. You almost have a heart attack from the discussion that follows. He isactually talking to you.

12:00 a.m. —“The Bae” casually asks if you would like to go on a date sometime soon, and you nearly pass out. You say yes, of course and smile like a goofball the rest of the night. Happiness has finally found you. Merciless joy floods your heart, and you welcome it with open arms, hoping that one day everyone will feel as good as you do. You can finally feel the love in the air, and the future has never seemed so bright.

12:08 a.m. — The six shots that you consumed are now racing up your esophagus. You throw up on “The Bae."

12:09 a.m. — "The Bae" shrugs, says, "I knew you were trouble when you walked in." A goat screams.