With every hookup, I try to forget that it’s meaningless. I try to forget that the person will probably never speak to me again. I try to forget how random people are judging me. I try to forget that I can’t stop myself from caring. I try to forget everything Ivalue. In the moment, nothing matters. Thinking is overrated Desensitization can do wonders.
I’m still unable to take sides. Some days I’m sick of this hookup culture, but others I’m succumbing to temptation. My sadistic conscience only further teases me, “Go ahead, indulge your fleeting, hormone-driven whims, but you’ll forever renounce alcohol when you wake up with disjointed memories of guy X, and Y, and Z.
As often as I try to validate my drunken hookups, I know I will never fully convince myself. Having said that, I don’t really know where to begin to stop. The morning after’s sobriety does wonders too, reminding me that I still ma a romantic with every intention of proving that chivalry is completely sexy.
“As participants in the hookup culture, some students are engaging in masturbation, but using other people’s bodies to do so. They’re scared of getting hurt, so they get together for pleasure instead of a real connection.”
-Dr. Gary Glass from Duke CAPS
We both understand that this is a one-weekend-night only thing. Smarter than some girls, I know that this is not about love but lust and fulfilling a physical need. That is all I need. I am not looking for love or a relationship on the weekends; besides, it is a fun sport. Unlike what some say, I do not think that this will ever get old; there will always be someone new to meet.