You know how the Winter is “cuffing” season? Well, it only makes sense the Summer would be breakup season. I think that’s the smartest thing I’ve ever said on ze blog. Or maybe everyone was aware of this already. Maybe I’m just stating the obvious. But every single breakup I’ve ever had was in the summer. Four breakups. Four different summers. Sometimes I did the breaking up. Sometimes they did the breaking up. Sometimes it was mutual. But, it was always in the summer.
So, like every self-conscious gal that’s lacking a little in confidence, that got me to thinking. Why is that? What is it about summer that leads to the inevitable breakup? Well, like the lil’ scientist I am, I put together my research (AKA my own experiences) and figured out why. I am the happiest when I am confident in my future. I hate the unknown. I hate being at a place in my life where I don’t really know what the future brings. I’m a planner. I plan out my life so the unexpected doesn’t happen. And if it does, I’m fully ready to conquer it. And during the year when I’m in school, that’s easy to do. I keep all my assignments and school-work on track, I post 3 times weekly on ze blog and I work my consistent Saturday shifts at work. My agenda is carefully outlined with to-do lists to complete every day. I’m the best version of myself. But as soon as school ends for the summer, my life always seems to crumble at my feet. Instead of waking up at 9am every day to get ready for school, I suddenly am thrown into the chaos of working retail. And for me, that means working a midnight shift one day and then working a morning shift the next.
I’m not saying that’s not manageable. Because it is. To an extent. I’ve done it every summer for six summers now. I’m still alive. But once you add in the stress of photographing, editing and writing three blog posts a week with a very varying daily schedule that could involve you waking up at 6am one day or sleeping in till noon the next day. The inconsistency drives me crazy. I don’t have a routine anymore. Uneasy. That’s the word for it. Summer just makes me uneasy. Uneasy and unsettled.
It happens without me noticing at first. The phone calls slow and then eventually stop. The texts are whittled down to a minimum. We start hanging out for a couple of hours a week. I become less and less of a priority. I tell myself I understand. We’re both busy. It’s okay not to hang out all the time. We will be fine once school starts again. But then the stress of my oncoming future starts to get to me. Why am I still working at Shoppers? When am I going to get a real job? When am I going to start my career? When am I going to move out? How am I going to afford to move out? What if I never get a job? What if Oakley has cancer? What if Oakley dies? What if my parents die? What if I die? Should I go back to school? Was human resources really the right path for me? What if I never make enough money? The stress just spirals out of control. I find myself sinking into a dark hole And I find myself needing someone to lean on. Looking for support, looking for love, looking for the reassuring voice telling me everything will be okay. But I don’t get that in summer. I am no longer a priority to receive that.
And so, summer becomes the season of breakups.
I do two things every summer. Experience a breakup and cut my hair short.
