Spring Semester

Chapter 1

       College did not turn out how I thought it would. I thought it would be the best years of my life, but so far they have turned out mediocre at best. I thought I would have a big friend group that hung out all the time. I thought I would go to parties all the time. I especially thought that I would find someone to date, but disappointingly, I have still not gone on a single date, or held anyone's hand, or even kissed somebody and my twentieth birthday is a month away. It is pathetic. I know I'm not super hot and attractive but I don't consider myself ugly, just kind of normal looking. Maybe it's the fact that I struggle to talk to people I merely want to be friends with, let alone anyone I find attractive. Or, maybe it's the fact that I'm a trans dude who goes to a small Catholic university. And I commute. I would say the cards are stacked up against me at the moment.

      This semester is going to be different, though. I am going to be extra extroverted and score myself an actual girlfriend by the end of the semester. I just have to put myself out there more and surely the right person will come along. Or maybe it doesn't even have to be "the right person", just a person to go out with to end my pathetic-ness as a near twenty year old who has never even held a girl's hand. Maybe I should join an intramural, because you don't actually have to be good at sports to join one of those, I think. But, I'm afraid that will just make the girls shake their heads in pity at me than want to date me.

       I feel reluctant to go back to school, to wake up early, and to spend my every free hour doing homework. In high school, somehow people convinced me that in college you got less homework and had more free time, but that couldn't be further from the truth. If I'm not at school, in lectures, then I'm working at the local historical museum and if I'm not working then I'm doing homework, with breaks only to eat and sleep. Maybe I'm being a little dramatic, because I do have time to play an unhealthy amount of Clash Royale. The point is college is not easier than high school. One good part is that I'm a commuter student, so I get to go home after classes and can do homework in the peace and quiet of my own room with no annoying roommate to deal with.

       I would have moved away for college but I didn't want my mom to be all alone in the house. I am basically the only person that can look after her. My dad died when I was a baby so I have no memories of him. It has always been just me and my mom. How could I leave her alone? She has no one else to truly look after her. Sure, she has friends from work but those are relatively shallow friendships, where they only gossip about office drama and talk about what they heard on the news last night. She needs someone to get her out of her depressive slumps that leave her in bed all hours of the day. Thankfully, this doesn't happen everyday. She'll have periods where she'll be a perfectly functional and happy person, but then once in a while she'll slowly slide into a horrible depression. Part of me wanted to move away and have a normal college experience with a dorm and a roommate, but I know I could never leave my mom. She has taken such great care of me my whole life and I feel like I can only pay her back by taking care of her when she needs it.

       The morning before my first day of the spring semester, she is in a good mood. She sips on her orange juice as I tell her, for the millionth time, what classes I'm taking this semester. I am still half asleep as I try to answer her questions about my professors, and what class do I think will be my favorite, and have I thought about joining any clubs? I mindlessly eat my cereal and drink my coffee, trying to wake myself up but I keep dozing off with the coffee cup still in my hand. I come dangerously close to spilling the whole thing before I put it down for good. 

    By the time I reach my first class I am still only half awake, but the bright florescent lights and the chattering of fellow students forces me awake a bit. I had to trek quite a long way from the parking lot while battling the January winds and I know my hair is probably going in a million different directions. I hastily try to wrestle it into something a little more flattering as I scan the room for a suitable place to sit. I choose one in the back, in a row with only one other person in it. The seat is on the end, so I have plenty of space to put my backpack and won't get squished between two people when more students come in.