“Transfer syndrome”

At first I thought it was a nice coincidence.

Then, always a coincidence, but a little less nice.

Now I’m starting to seriously think that I have some sort of anathema launched by some gypsy or by Cupid himself, because for a calculation of probabilities, what is possible in your opinion that all – and I mean all – the guys with whom I start a slightly more serious date , suddenly have to move?

It all started when I was in my second year of university, my big push and pull decided to visit me in Rome (a long-distance story was already starting) to tell me that he has enlisted and will soon be transferred to Iraq. There and then I thought he was making fun of me, but he instead invited me to the oath and to the airport, where I didn’t go. And when he returned safe and sound from the mission I realized that all in all I was not ready for such a busy and demanding life and so we broke up permanently. And he was transferred to Sicily (where he met his future wife so better that way).

A few months later I know a guy at my faculty, one of the few hetero cute and not engaged, we go out, we hang out for four weeks (but with the rhythms of the university it is a bit like the years of dogs and everything must be multiplied by 7 since we spent ten hours a day together practically), I was almost convinced that he could be a guy not to be treated badly as my usual and give him a real chance when…. The application for admission to the Piccolo di Milano is accepted. I didn’t want another long-distance story and therefore adios! Sayonara. Good life.

A year goes by. I get involved. I just decide to commit myself.

For a while, then the panic prevails and I make my usual escape that Julia Roberts in “Runaway Bride” is a real beginner in comparison!

The fact is that three months later he is transferred to Dubai … ..

Okay, this is starting to get embarrassing, I think. But they can only be coincidences, right? True?

Remember my high school friend who took nine years, NINE, I stress nine, to kiss me?

Well, even if we hadn’t understood that all in all it was fine to be just friends, the great love story that was in the air would still not have been possible, given that he was sent to the deep South for three years!

Some time ago I go to Cambridge, I have a colossal crush on one of my teachers, who, due to the fact that schooling times there do not resemble a bet against time, happens to be my age … there seems to be something, but he does not decide to come forward, I think he is shy until I discover that his being detached is due to the fact that the distance between us is not only the human enough one between Italy and England (which can also be bridged by the fact that I would go there to live without second thoughts), but…. Italy Indonesia !!!

Exact. He is about to leave for five years around the world. A project that he has been carrying out for almost ten years and that he has finally managed to realize.

Of our troubled, bizarre, absurd and magical story, maybe one day I will talk about it better, but what matters at the moment is that it is at that moment that I began to think that something was wrong. Well, ok one transfer, ok two … I even accept three.

But five ????? It is a very low probability. So, am I the problem?

A little more time passes, until this summer. I have known the boy since January but only in June he decides to ask me out, I accept, I meet him for a couple of times, I am not very convinced, but I have promised myself that I must not close the doors without really knowing a person and so I go out there two more times before I finally understand that no emotional light bulb turns on to be with him, and while I’m looking for a nice way to tell him, he anticipates me by saying that he will have to move to the North for work….

I don’t know whether to laugh or cry, but I really think I have to do something about it, because either I start dating only guys who have always wanted to move and can’t… becoming their darling. Or I risk being the founder of a bad abandonment syndrome.

The transfer syndrome.

Any advice?