Why I’m through with finding love on campus

Going from an all girl high school to UM was like tasting alcohol for the first time; I was ready to get rowdy. Instead, I’m left sitting in the Rat staring at guys in confusion at why their biceps are bigger than my face.

Here I am, in my second-year of university, still holding onto my freshman 15. I’m also still hoping to lock eyes with a guy, preferably a Ryan Gosling look alike, and to be kissed like in the movies, where my calf pops up in the air and everything feels just right.

Sadly, the closest thing I’ve had to a relationship is pretending to be my best friend’s lesbian lover to get a guy to stop talking to her. Let alone I have never been asked on a “Netflix and Chill,” nor has anyone I’m actually interested in “slid into my DMs.”

My friends have had their share with guys but when will it be my turn? I’m tired of Uber drivers giving me creepy stares while asking me if I’m single, my Instagram filling up with cheesy pick up lines, and getting whistled at by homeless men when walking to the nearby Wholefoods.

Took this and then our Uber driver asked me out

Then I ask, do I even see myself with a UM frat boy? Although a man with abs, who has beer pong champion on his résumé, owns a skateboard and wears the latest pastel shade does sound enticing, I would rather keep sending selfies to Justin Bieber.

Yes. I squeal of excitement at the opportunity of sporting my boyfriend’s frat shirt while walking to class. But I remember the previous efforts I made to make this happen and it once again confirms why I am single.

My conversations with the typical boy have consisted of me trying to act impressed as he calls me “babe” as his phone vibrates from the multiple conversations he’s having with other girls. Ah young romance.

When you get dressed up just to be let down by the male population

If you thought finding a decent date-able guy at a frat party or Tavern on a Thursday night was hard, don’t even bother bringing technology into the mix.

It consists of judging your favored sex through a screen and learning the rules that come with it. Like double tapping an Instagram photo to show you’re interested or responding too soon to a guy’s text means you’re easy and late makes him lose interest.

Why do I bother checking my Tinder when I know I’ll only find 28-year-old men who continuously swipe right, don’t care about what I have to say and call me their “Tinderella.”

Deuces to all those boys out there

Today university love, or at least my love life, is dead. Dates that consist of drive in movies and men cooking me dinner only happen in my fantasies. I’m officially getting used to going out to have a good time instead of trying to get a new pic for my Insta feed as I wait for my latest crush not to like it.

I’m done with using the latest flirting app to find my prey. I’m through with trying to spark up conversation at the Wellness Centre over the school’s neat gym equipment. I would rather just stick to my Kate Moss and Johnny Depp relationship goals and binge watch Netflix on Friday nights.

UM deserted with no decent men in sight