content: Late night real niBBa hours She woke up at 7:30 unable to get back to sleep due to the pounding in her head from indulgences of the previous night. She asked herself why she did this every weekend. It wasn't fun anymore. But what else was she going to do on a Friday night? She rolled over and checked her pack of cigarettes. Only 4 left. "Fuck. 16? Really, Claire?" She said to herself. The man that she spent the night with was gone. He was supposed to buy her breakfast, and she had foolishly let herself believe that this time he might have actually done it. He wasn't particularly attractive but also not so unappealing that her friends would give her shit for sleeping with him. She had fucked uglier guys for sure. She wasn't religious, but she used to ask god why men constantly rejected her emotionally. She had a lot going for her. She was pretty, intelligent and kind. Her father would remind her this every day when they still spoke. She had internalized his message but it was beginning to fade with every man who she could not get to commit to her. He had told her that in order to get a quality man she couldn't put out on the first date; though those weren't the exact words he used. She tried this with a few guys. She had met a very nice guy in her psychology class. He held her hand and even asked before kissing her. But there was something tedious about seeing him. It wasn't that he was boring to her. It was more like she felt like she was breathing through a straw when she was with him. Besides, when she confronted a few guys she had tried this with their excuse was that she was too prudish. One guy even had the audacity to point out that everyone knew that she was easy and to not get gash from a slut is embarrassing. "Men are fucking assholes" But she knew that her anger at men was misguided. She knew not all men were bad. Her friends dated attractive, driven men, so she wondered what was wrong with her. She checked her phone. "Oh god, what did I say last night?" She had texted her ex-boyfriend from high school that still lived back in Toledo. The text read "Hey I miss you". And she did - sort of. She didn't want to get back together with him. She just wanted to feel that sort of comfort again. He was familiar and that's exactly what she needed. She lamented leaving him to go to university for a minute and then cursed herself for being so stupid. She had a career to work on and a long distance relationship would never work, though there wasn't a doubt in her mind that he would jump at the opportunity to get back together. She reached for the glass of water by her bed and took an SSRI and her birth control. "Time to stop being weak, Claire." She got out of bed, picked up her phone, and dialed her father's number. It rang 3 times and when the automated voicemail message began she hang up. A tear rolled down her cheek though she wasn't exactly crying. She felt nothing.