Every year an approaching spring forces hibernating couples out searching for ways to escape cabin fever while crowds of singles flock bars and nightclubs in search of spring fever. Whether in a relationship or just starting out there are certain gestures coming from that certain someone, that remind us of what falling in love and staying there is all about. With so many different perspectives over what is actually romantic, how do we decipher between romantic gestures and major turn offs? When it comes to romance, what are the guidelines?

I thought I had escaped the pressures of spring fever this year until a predicted one night stand turned into a perfect two day date. Six weeks and several dates later, I began to think “Bad Luck Bobby” had finally dodge the bullet when it came to bad love. Then just like that, excitement and spontaneity had faded just as quickly as Lindsay Lohan’s career and ironically enough late nights, hotel rooms and booze also played a major role. Even so, after being informed that his extended vacation had come to an end and he needed to flee the states a long flight away, I couldn’t help but feel disappointed. Accepting our fate, I moved on quicker than he came (and left of course), and with the blink of eye I had my eye on a new prospect.

Across town talk of moving forward by moving in had Mason eyeing a way out. Mason and Maddy had been serious for a while and Maddy was seriously harping on moving in. Unfortunately Mason’s fear of commitment and lack of affection had resulted in an unwillingness to discuss their future together and at the same time driving them apart. Their romance was dying and Mason figured the only way to save their relationship was to provide evidence that the two had some sort of future without actually going anywhere. So one night Mason invited Maddy over for dinner and just when things were beginning to feel tense, Mason pointed towards the bedroom. Appalled that sex was being used as a scapegoat, Maddy quickly became erratic, until a quick glance at the bedroom changed everything. There in the corner, was a brand new, mahogany bureau, garnished with Maddy’s favorite flowers, tea lights and a framed picture of the two of them. Although he wasn’t quite ready for a relationship roommate, Mason used romance to fix his relationship by showing someday he would be.

The next night I invited some friends to witness some controlled dramatics for once. I had accepted a lead role in the musical RENT, which fortunately led to a few dates with my eyeing prospect. Following my performance, I marched out to greet my guests and accept their praises for a job well done, when all of a sudden to my surprise, I was greeted by a surprised guest. My faded fling, who disappeared a month ago, had returned and this time for good. His romantic side had persuaded to him to hunt me down and show up unannounced. Unfortunately all it did was freak me out. No calls or contact of any sort for over a month had me completely over whatever it was we had. I had moved on, so I uncomfortable explained this while my newest prospect greeted friends behind us. That night, while out for drinks with a new prospect and cast of RENT, I bought into the idea that my situation could have been extremely romantic had it been coming from the right person. When it comes to romance sometimes, the smallest things sweep us off our feet while the most extravagant ones send us running away because in reality it’s not so much the gesture, but rather the person it coming from.

By Bobby Carr

There comes a point in every single twenty or thirty-something’s life when we take a step back and ask ourselves whether we have aged out of certain activity, style or even profession. If we hit 30, is it too late to rethink our job and relocate? At 25, is it time to stop clubbing and transition to a sensible martini bar? And, at 35, if we still have not successfully had a significant relationship; is it time to seek professional help? With all of this in mind, I began to wonder, is age really just a number or a societal reminder to hurry up and move on to next phase in our lives.

Very recently my good friend Mark’s free spirited, persuasive persona had me out and about on random Thursday night. Feeling I was passed the club scene, I began to knock the “thump…thump” setting in hopes to transition to a more appropriate social hot spot. Determined to try something new Mark, peer pressured his way through a very expensive night of overpriced drinks and crowds of sweaty ravers and overly sassy drag queens. I immediately felt out of place, until out of nowhere, I found myself grinding on the dance floor with a corona and cute and toned club-goer.

That same night, several blocks away, Annie found herself in a similar situation. She and Salina had been dating for over a year and although they continued to grow closer, Annie began to feel the pressures of age difference tear her apart. Being almost ten years her elder, Annie found herself in a very awkward situation when Salina’s big birthday night approached. Annie planned everything out, but felt more like of a chaperone than a member of the crew. Everything hit the fan, when uncomfortable notions caused her to over drink and overreact to a comment that was made, by a friend, about Salina’s good looks. After a very noticeable outburst that silenced the bar, Annie was the center of attention, in an embarrassing situation that involved an underage lesbian telling her to grow up. It was right then and there that Annie realized she needed to stop allowing her issues with age get in the way of her acting like a mature adult.

Later that night, I also put my late twenty something year old foot in my overly paranoid mouth. After spending most of the night with my toned interest, I began to anticipate the uncomfortable question approaching of how old I was. So, just like that I awkwardly blurted it out. I immediately followed with a statement of how embarrassed I was for being 28 in a club that catered to those that 21. He then informed me that he was 33. He took off to get a drink and unsurprisingly never returned. On the way back to Mark’s apartment that night I suddenly realized that we are our own worst enemy when it comes to age. Ironically enough, when we obsess over age appropriateness, we somehow end up appearing immature and insecure.

Typically in the dating world, tricks and traps help us realize that finding love may be the end result in a game of overly dramatic experiences. But does it really have to be that complicated? When it comes to finding love and companionship, are the games really all that necessary?

As the New Year approached, I spent some time pondering over the different vices I would attempt to give up. I had quit smoking, my debt had lessened and I had rebuilt some burned bridges broken down by prior ignorance, but something wasn’t quite right. For someone with a natural competitive nature, I was losing terribly at the game of love. Luckily, my current character building was stellar and my exuding confidence and ability to attract and conquer had me hitting free parking almost every time I went around the block. Then one night, I came across a very attractive unexpected player. Before I knew it, I had made a pass, given the go ahead and collect 10 digits. infatuated and intrigued, I was unaware of the many obstacles that lay ahead.

That same night, my good friend was involved in some unwanted games himself. Kyle and Mason had been coworkers for two years and dating for one. They were the perfect team aside from Mason’s inability to open up about their relationship. One on one he was sensitive and caring, but out in the open he nothing of the sort. Then one night, while the two were heading to a business dinner with some coworkers, Kyle was pushed to the limit, literally. Two blocks away from their destination, Kyle was entertaining the group with flamboyant impersonations, when a homeless man turned the corner, out of nowhere shoved him to the ground and continued walking. Shocked and embarrassed, his only comfort was that Mason would be his rescue, but it didn’t happen. Instead he picked himself up while Mason watched with concern in the background.

Two hours into the dinner, the two had barely spoken and Mason overheard the company secretary attempting to set Kyle up on a date. Fed up with his own games and insensitivity, Mason marched over, put his arm around Kyle and blurted out their relationship status. Unfortunately, at that same moment the place went silent for a holiday toast. Needless to say, the toast began with a sarcastic congratulations to the couple and ended with a slightly embarrassed pair with a newly mended relationship.

Over a week later and my unexpected player and I had made little progress. Playing games back and forth through witty text messages and purposefully missed calls, we had created a potential loss on both our parts. When I finally came to my senses and set up date, I was stricken with a head cold. When he finally came to his and rescheduled, he struck his head in a car accident and ended up in the emergency room. Then, finally as sickness and bruises faded a decision to make a move had us on a more than perfect date. Things couldn’t have been going more smoothly until my unexpected player made an unexpected announcement. Talk of returning to Europe for the next six months, had me wondering what all of the effort was for. Then it hit me; no games. We hit it off, we were on a date, and had no expectations for the future, just a see what happens attitude. In the end foolish games had almost cost me a truly fabulous dating experience. On the way home I realized; when it comes to dating and relationships playing games can only create poorly built characters lacking the understanding and truth behind the possession of true companionship.

After writing the final chapter to an existing relationship we tend to cut all ties and go our separate ways. As time heals we move on and slight regret turns to complete forget. Then every often an unexpected encounter leaves us reconnected with our past, and our finished story begins to take on an alternate ending. With this thought in mind, I began to question the “second chance”. When it comes to closed relationships that have been reopened, do results lean more towards a happy ending or a tragic reminder of why the relationship ended in the first place?

It had been six years since our initial introduction to one another and my relationship with the successful banker from Boston had gone from acquaintance, to seducer, to just friends. Introduced through a good friend, our story began with excitingly scandalous dramatics and ended with an unwillingness to change in our previously set stances. Our incompatibility when it came to certain positions, politically and otherwise, had the production of our passionate novel come to an immediate close. Debating whether I should taken one for the team and compromise by not, I stuck to my decision to move on and settle for a friendship. Then six years later, standing in front of me at the ATM in one of my favorite Boston bars, was the banker from Boston. We had both ventured to the same place to meet up with the same people and before I knew it mixed drinks and loud music had us reminiscing and second guessing our prior unwillingness to alter who we were to get something we both wanted.

Cities and towns away, my friend Myra was creating a second chance story of her own. Her first major crush, Buddy Stevens, was a handsome redhead who had always been there for her. Unfortunately, his rescue usually occurred with another woman in the background. When she finally got up the nerve to tell her prince how she felt, he refused to listen. Buddy, who was attending the University of California, was neglecting to return Myra’s many calls. She accepted her tragedy and moved on. Then many years later, while Myra leaned over the bar to order a Budlite, Buddy lightly pressed down on her shoulders to intercept and buy her a beer. He had returned from CA, not on a white horse, but in a blue Bronco with a relationship that was in shambles. His flirty antics of hand fed cherries and numerous comments of disappointment that they never got together, suggested Myra’s fantasies were about to come true. Buddy’s talk of soul mates and his current failed relationship had Myra kissing him good night and then good morning. Unfortunately, two nights later at the same bar, Myra witnessed Buddy feeding the same moves (a cherry and a mention of soul mates) to a busty blonde. Coming to the realization that her prince charming was actually prince cheating in his rocky relationship, she walked over and behind, slightly pushed down on his shoulders and ordered him a redheaded slut.

So later that night, in a fading crowd at a fabulous bar, I found myself once again engaged in flirtatious conversation with a person that had already romantically faded out of my life. Still somewhat apprehensive I began to ask myself; if we were not compatible before, why would we be now? Shoving preconceived notions aside I decided to give into temptation and give it a second chance. I figured, when it came to relationships there would always be times in which we felt something may not work out even if we already tried it once before. With that said, when it comes to writing the plot to our own personal story, it is extremely important to take chances, otherwise we end up with a very boring “what if” ending.