I once said that, for whatever reason, most of my relationships begin in the spring. Perhaps this is true for many people--the world is all new and fresh, the days are longer, the air is warmer, and can you blame people for getting a little twitterpated? But what I am just now beginning to realize is that most of my relationships also end in the spring. Specifically, in the month of April. Even more specifically, about a week before my birthday. And if that isn't the recipe for a wrist-slittingly good time, I don't know what is. To wit:
April 19, 2007--The end of a three-year relationship, and a week to the day before my 27th birthday. Our problems are myriad and complex, but not least among them is his decided fear of commitment.
April 17, 2010--A guy I have been dating about a month pleads commitment-phobia.
April 2011--Another guy I have been dating about a month also pleads commitment-phobia. Hmmm. We go back and forth a bit, but ultimately, after not returning his middle-of-the-night phone call, the last I hear from him is during the early morning hours of Sunday, April 17.
Even I think this is getting weird.
Obviously, I have to put a stop to this sick cycle. The only ideas I have come up with so far are, 1) stop dating any guys, ever, or 2) stop having birthdays. Or maybe 3) lock myself in my house on March 31 and do not come out again until May.