Sex and Senioritis

I’m not sure if my sex drive is at
an all-time low or if I have a mental block on pursuing sex thanks to my
existential paralysis regarding graduation. The end is overwhelmingly near, and
I feel terror.

I think there is always a sense of
“Why bother?” when it comes to sex and romantic entanglements at the end of the spring
semester, but as a senior with less than a month left, getting laid is at the bottom
of my list of priorities.

I’d rather haughtily sit in a booth
at Doms Lounge stuffing my face with chips surrounded by my friends doing the same
thing than spend my time flirting. A true #SWUG (Senior Washed Up Girl/Guy), as
they say.

The time I spend leaving a party
earlier than I normally would to have sex and then staying up too late could be
better spent with friends making memories.

A wise friend recently dropped this
truth bomb about graduating and sex and romance: “You come into college alone
and you leave college alone. You can’t take it with you.” 

Anything that happens
in that department will be meaningless in a few weeks! Why invest your time?

This is why it’s extra confusing
that several former flames seem to be coming back into my life. Perhaps it’s
the fact that my motivation to put effort into getting laid is at an all-time low that suddenly makes me more appealing to them. They want the chase, and my
apathy and aloofness stoke the desire in that depressing part of human nature
that wants what one can’t have. Even worse, their apparent desire for me makes me
want them even less.

It’s hard not to freak out about
the end of college and gravitate toward former hook-ups. It’s a combination of
nostalgia and the desire for something familiar, comfortable, and easy in the face of the unknown soon-to-be post-grad life. You want someone who knows your sexual proclivities and pillow talk that isn’t awkward.

As the phrase “No new friends” embodies, trying to get to know someone new (both in the
biblical sense and friend-wise) and spending any of the
precious moments left with someone you don’t know at all seems like a pointless and unappealing waste of time.

However, ex-sex at this time of year, as I’m guilty of on a recent Thursday, may turn out to be anything but easy. The
complications and drama that can arise despite casual intentions will probably make
that #TBT a mistake.

On the
other hand, the countdown to leaving this place can be sexually freeing. I engaged in a threesome the other weekend for the novelty and a check mark on my Claremont bucket list. But after about only 15 minutes of above-the-belt action, the cocaine in my system made the two people on top of me seem
like captors, and I burst out of the room like a bat out of hell.

Of course, my attitude will
probably change during the orgy that may be Senior Week. But the chaos and
crowded nature of Senior Week will probably mean that sexual activity will
likely take place on the beach since the houses will be teeming with drunken
revelers. Do I really want sand in my vagina? At the same time, when else am I going to have sex on the beach?

Even though the ephemeral nature of
these last few weeks might seem to make hooking up less complicated and more
casual for us seniors, it’s more fraught than ever. I don’t want to deal with
the potential awkwardness of unexpected run-ins, or worrying that one of us is
expecting more out of the situation than the other or that interactions will be
wildly misinterpreted. These last moments of college are big, emotional moments,
and combining them with casual sex freaks us out. We can’t do commitment,
attachment, or entanglements beyond the platonic right now.

What’s a senior to do?

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