Remember that time you accidently said “I love you” to your sort-of boyfriend of three months?
Oh, wait you probably don’t because that happened to me. Not you.
We are all creatures of habit, and for several years I was dropped off at school by loving parents who would often wish me well, tell me to make good choices, and often say “Goodbye, love you!” As a teenager I would slam the car door shut as quickly as possible to ensure no one heard the ridiculous affection my parents had for me. In middle school the only love I wanted was from my boyfriend of two weeks. It was social suicide to have parents hug you, let alone tell you they loved you. Obviously, this may be an exaggeration. But back then it sure as hell felt that way.
After years of carpool lanes and “Goodbye, love you!”, I was taught to reciprocate. So when The Bartender dropped me off for my class last week, I instinctively said “Love you!” as I closed the car door.
As the car drove away, this was me:
As soon as I sat down in my class I hurriedly sent a text: FORCE OF HABIT ACCIDENT.
I wasn’t aware that I could feel utterly mortified, embarrassed, disgraced, shamed and humiliated all at the same time. (Except for the morning after I threw up a hostel floor and my roommate had to clean it up and remind me about it the next morning) but it turns out I have that ability even when I haven’t been drinking.
*On another note: more posts to come after this college kid finishes her final exams.