Summer Fling

This past week, as Washington perseveres the late-summer humidity, it was dawned on me that the window for a summer fling is almost closed. With young interns packing up their belongings, the District waves goodbye to some beautiful summer memories - and yearns for the next May to come. In that spirit, I found it the perfect time to wrap up what was left from my summer romance and shrug off the dramas and baggages it carried.

It started out just glittery and romantic as those fireflies that sparkled the little trail from M Street to Georgetown when we walked through, hand in hand, starry eyes, and occasional kisses. He was so good on paper: 30, lawyer, avid runner, worldly and smart. Sure there were a few shortcomings. Sure he was not very much my physical type. But in some way, he was like a fedora - I knew it's not my style, but it was right there, so I tried it on anyway. Somehow throughout the improtu meet-ups and the abnormally frequent dates, the ideas of having him along was pleasant enough that it became almost like a bad habit - you know you should stop but it's too painful to go through the awkward conversation.

Yet as the summer gradually closed, I knew it was time to stop the realistically cruel romance when one night I painfully put on my shoes to go meet his friend in Georgetown. Sitting through what seemed to be an endless (or bottomless?) cup of coffee - I told myself it was too excruciating (and costly) to carry on. And I stopped it.

As I contemplated my summer and my fair share of summer flings, I couldn't help wondering why they have become so frequently addictive - is it because of the summer weather, an overly warming heart, or simply a groin in heat? It's hard to tell. But what is more mind-blogging is the gradually lessened degree of pain associating with it - I was heart-broken saying good-bye to Adrian, sad to see it ended with Gary, but this time, I only felt lightly regretful - without even knowing what I regretted about...

And then, suddenly, I realized that I was regretting the ability to feel crazy and angry, to feel the pain of a broken heart, of shattered memories. As we go through life and try to be stronger - there is just that little trade-off of becoming more jaded and cynical about life, about love, about others...

... or is it not so little at all?

Photo credit: Summer Fling by Megan Aroon Duncanson