The Cavalier Daily
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A love letter to my friends

Taking a moment to appreciate those you already have

At this point in my life, the number of single female friends I have is dwindling. Luckily, this fact generally has zero relevance in my day-to-day existence — besides the constant danger of walking in on ungodly displays of spooning.

The men concerned vary from wonderful to what will soon be called a “phase” at best. Regardless, they are not my problem, and neither is the obsession they elicit from my typically sane friends. No, my concern is what their constant displays of cuteness do to everyone else. Namely, they cause relative insanity.

Anyone who has recently been in a long-term or semi-serious relationship will recall a definitive lack of unicorns and bunnies at every turn. They have their charms, but relationships are far from perfect. Despite this, it seems many of my friends are affected by self-induced cases of relationship amnesia. Symptoms include excessive romantic-comedy viewings and yearning for an idealized special someone to snap Instagram selfies with.

Being surrounded by this madness, I’ve done a lot of soul-searching and decided that:

1. Spooning has officially been ruined for me.

2. Couples should be banned from Instagram for the duration of their relationships.

3. It’s my best friends, not any significant other, who will turn out to be the love of my college life.

My best friends are fiercely loyal and come with no strings attached. They know my phone always dies at least three times during the day, that I have a mild Rue La La addiction — or, in their words, a severe addiction to online shopping — and that my alter ego is a cat that tends to come out when I hit a certain point of deliriousness.

They tell me to stop being a diva, get my butt in the shower and start watching “Scandal” instead of “Grey’s Anatomy” — the best advice I have gotten all year, by the way. They laugh at me when I put dish soap in the dishwasher, but then proceed to clean it up for me out of love — and out of pity for my lack of domesticity.

This also means I am never alone, so when someone fails to be who I need them to be, there is always someone in the wings standing by to step in. In the rather crude words of my infinitely wise friend Elly: “S*** happens, bring napkins.” And without fail my friends show up with Bounty quilted sheets every time.

More than anything, my friends make my day-to-day college life an adventure. They give me endless love, advice and, embarrassingly, snuggles. They teach to me to be a better version of myself and, at the end of the day, they always catch me when I metaphorically trust fall onto them — even if I end up crushing them Gretchen Weiners style.

Needless to say, the next man who tries to come into my life is going to need some luck. He has a lot of wonderful people’s shoes to fill.

My point is not at all that relationships are inherently bad and futile at this time in our lives. But I think by spending so much time trying to force relationships into our college experiences, we miss some of the best, most selfless partners we may ever have in life.

Never again will we be in the same place at the same time as so many of our best friends. To spend that time wishing for something else — something that more than likely will not compete with what we already have in front of us — is nothing short of a waste.

Anne-Marie’s column runs biweekly Tuesdays. She can be reached at a.albracht@cavalierdaily.com.

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