My relationship status can be best described as a Ferris wheel that I can’t stop riding. I sit in my precarious gondola and take riders around with me, one at a time. There’s the quick rise to the top where we’re making out and everything is rose-colored fantastic. We hit the crest and, for a brief moment, I think we might unlatch from the rim and head for the skies like Sandy and Danny. And then, the swift descent and unexpected backswing brings us crashing back to Earth and my passenger exits without so much as a “thanks for the ride, babe”. I guess it can be seen as sad, or insane, that I refuse to get out of this contraption. But with each new passenger comes the fervent hope that, this time, things will be different…

"You mean it doesn't always work out this way?"

Share your relationship disasters in the comments section below! No names. Play nice. :)

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