Call It What You Want

by Alissa DeRogatis

I think the worst part was realizing that somewhere deep down, I knew it the entire time. I knew he wouldn’t be able to get where I wanted him to. I just hoped that I was wrong. No, we never dated. He’s not an ex-boyfriend. He’s an ex-almost. Maybe that’s all we’d ever be—an incomplete sentence or a

book that someone put down halfway through and never picked back up, finished without an ending.

I was willing to do it whenever and wherever because I thought it would make him love me. I was desperate not to be alone. Spoiler alert: sex never makes someone love you.

Eventually, junior year rolled around, and I took a break from my love conquest. I chalked it up to the idea that the love of my life wasn’t in Wilmington. Maybe he was in a big city or on another coast. I’d find out one day.

Life got so much better when I stopped looking for love in every guy I met.

I’d tried to keep my dating life casual and not get attached to any hookups. It was easier that way, since most college guys weren’t looking for anything serious. I’d made that mistake before, and I swore to never let myself again.

a simple gesture that felt weighted with unspoken attraction.