Let's be honest, the word "affair" often conjures images of clandestine meetings, forbidden passion, and a thrilling escape from the mundane. In the movies, it's all dramatic lighting and whispered confessions. In real life? Well, for a time, it can feel, dare I say, delicious. There's a heady cocktail of novelty, secrecy, and ego-boost that makes an affair seem like the ultimate indulgence. You're getting attention, feeling desired, perhaps even rediscovering a version of yourself you thought was lost to laundry lists and lukewarm dinners.

In a world that glorifies independence and self-sufficiency, cutting people off has become a common practice. We tell ourselves that we are protecting our peace, setting boundaries, or refusing to tolerate toxicity. And sometimes, that’s true. But what happens when cutting people off becomes a pattern—when every relationship ends the same way, with distance instead of resolution? What does it say when you can’t sustain a romantic relationship? When you feel too overwhelmed to tolerate the feelings that go along with the tough stuff? Or the narrative is always the same when a relationship ends? Or when you find others keep walking away from you?