When a hopeless romantic tries summer love

Summer dreams, ripped at the seams


Summer is in full swing, and you all know what that means: the season of flings is upon us. The summer fling, made iconic by Grease, is almost every “party of one” person’s goal from May to August. As a serial monogamist with lots of heartbreak under her belt, I never thought I could – or would want to – experience this short love affair, but with the coaxing of a good friend, I was set up with a Tinder account and given strict rules for finding that perfect summer guy.

When your friends are so sick of you third-wheeling their dates that they make you a Tinder

Though I found some nice guys to hang out and drink with, I strongly caution against summer love. I would say my summer fling went terribly wrong: I ended up falling pretty hard for a boy who I may never see again, and that sucks.

A couple days after my friend set up my embarrassing Tinder account, I stumbled upon Patrick*, a guy I knew from class and had the most massive crush on. Being the dork that I am, I “super liked” him – which is a thing now, apparently – and we started chatting.

Wait, is that a nice boy I spy yonder?!

At first, everything pointed to the successful summer fling: both of us were leaving the city soon, me for a month, and he for…well, for forever. We had so much in common that conversation was easy, he made me laugh harder than I have in a while, and I seemed to surprise him with my stories of bad luck. This could work, I thought to myself over coffee and jokes, or at least it will be fun.

Then the terrible thing happened: Patrick completely stole my heart. After an evening of obsessing over Disney and Marvel with beers in our hands, he showed me his balcony with the most gorgeous view of the city. There, he told me how he kicked himself for not talking to me in class, and we could have done this a long time ago. With the city lights beneath us, he kissed me and I was sold. Patrick was it.

Maybe I should have gone on a date with him…

Since then, we’ve seen each other every other day for two weeks, and we are fast approaching the last days of our summer together. He’s off to pursue his dreams, and I’m at university for another year before I figure out my life. In some ways, I’m thankful for trying a summer fling, even if I’m going to get incredibly hurt when he leaves. I had the chance to finally be with the boy I casually stared at in class, being the incredibly uncomfortable person I am. I got to know Patrick in the most rapid-fire, honest way through late-night conversations and nature-appreciating.

However, I failed miserably in every way while pursuing this summer lovin’. I allowed my hopeless romantic to come out, and she was oh-so wooed by Patrick’s cute smile and awkward encounters. I allowed myself to let my guard down, something I have trouble doing since my past relationships went so sour. I also let myself get caught up in the perfection that is Patrick: his love of kids, his taste in music, and his passion to follow his dreams. Patrick is pretty damn perfect for me, and I let myself get lost – and hurt – by him.

Maybe I should have just stuck with JGL…

So I caution anyone looking for something fun this summer: you might just fall hard, and end up pining for those “SUUMMMER NIIIIIGHTS” (sung like Sandy and Danny).