The cool crisp leaves and winds of fall bring a change in the air. All summer the energies of the world were relaxed and moving slowly.  The late summer nights are filled with the freeing idea of being single and enjoying the summertime confident and free. The crisp cool air that the leaves bring on their journey downward brings a sense of wanting to get close and snuggle with the person you care most about.  However, you spent the summer being free taking love as it came enjoy the warm rays of sunshine and now the rush of the so-called “Cuffing Season” begins. The need to find the most eligible partner for the colder months and holidays becomes an almost frenzy between the excessive tinder dates and right swipes becomes a nightmare for people like me that are affected from Borderline Personality Disorder. This becomes a 21st century horror story for people who struggle with BPD.  
The normal emptiness of the inside grows like the Grinch’s heart and grows three sizes bigger than normal.  Dating while having Borderline Personality Disorder is hard enough; the first date usually ends with me putting the person high on pedestal of what I expect them to be. They are perfect and yet we only spent a couple of hours together and most of it was in a movie theater not communicating they are my soul mate we belong together.  The next couple dates are wonderful and yet I notice things that instill the anxiety of abandonment like at minute 32 of our lunch date they check their phone and smile a little bit. I didn’t send them a text or any sort of personal message so why are they smiling. Then the fear of them seeing other people while our relationship thus far has been casual I thought it was more. The switch flips in my brain and I am back to a cold almost resentful feeling they wasted my time.  The communication over the next few days dwindles to none mostly my fault they were going to abandon me anyway.
The emptiness grows once again and during the fall months it only gets worse.  I desperately seek the attention to not be the only one not taking cute fall photos at the local corn maze.  I become a monster hungry for validation and the feeling of being wanted. My poor phone screen is over worked by the consistent switching between dating apps seeking a potential suitor to not feel lonely on these cold fall nights.
 The first guy who pays even the slightest attention to me I have built a timeless classic fall romantic comedy of how are relationship is going to be. From our first date at the coffee-house that plays eclectic jazz during the fall months to the first time we say I love you on New Year ’s Eve right at 11:59 PM sealed with a kiss to enter the New Year.  This will be my greatest love story I affirm myself between each flirty text over tinder through the crisp fall air as I begin the pre date exercise regime. The exercise regime I can’t follow through on a normal basis because of how empty and numb I feel. However since I have this date I have to look my best and up my cardio from zero to one thousand. The day of the date has finally came, I am ready two hours early and the greatest love story ever told is about to begin.  The first moments are awkward of course that’s how it begins in all the greatest movies. The coffee shop isn’t playing Jazz this time. That’s one minor detail that I can deal with besides who likes jazz anyway. This guy seems very bored and uninterested and yet this conversation is engaging. This is it this is my soul mate and yet we seem to have no common interest other than the coffees we both ordered I am sure we will make it work. The next couple days the conversation doesn’t seem to be moving forward and this guy who was once my soulmate is almost like a stranger, whom I seem to starting to resent he was not the Matthew Broderick of my dreams no he was the plot point that forced me back into the indie drama of my life and the emptiness returns.  
I begin the next phase of my horror story as every good horror story needs some impulsive behavior that puts the protagonist in danger.  The slew of one night stands begin and while I rationalize it as well maybe through all these one nights someone might actually be my soul mate and I can end this Jekyll and Hyde affair. I am back and emptier than ever. The jack’ o’ lantern of my heart has no light and it’s almost rotten for sitting on the emotional porch for too long.   
The next boy to fall prey to my black widows web is greeted with a cynicism and while this guy seems genuinely interested I am not.  The first date leaves me unimpressed and yet I don’t think there will be a second I give it one more chance. The switch in my head then clicks on and the borderline obsessive behavior begins again. This love story might not be the greatest ever told but this one is more quirky and true to life. The pedestal I place him on is high and we spend more time together.  We spend more time together and inevitably sleep together this kicks my borderline personality disorder into over drive. While my slew of one night stands were meant to fill the emptiness I had no emotion and most of them were numb. This however is different I crave his touch and his presence; nothing can sate me like quick arm brush or hand on my thigh. One point during our short affair I notice things like the texts have become less and less. He seems to be more distracted when we spend time together.  The killer of all my personal and sexual relationships looms out the window stalking and preying on my every fear. My relationship is Marion Crane in the shower and I am Norma Bates waiting for the right time to pull the metaphorical shower curtain and end it once and for all. The dime in my head flips to the side of abandonment and just like that I am become more distant and moody. The once high pedestals is now an open casket six feet under and open till I push him in with my final blow.
It happens again I am back to my emptiness and I feel more dissociative this time. I go through the motions and question my place in this dying world. Most of the leaves have hit the ground and so have I. I begin impulsively messaging more than one guy to find something if anything that keeps my attention. I become the ghost that wanders through many inboxes. I start spending more time with people who I know love me to feed of their energy because I don’t love me and need that consistent validation.
I begin following a cycle of this behavior living a slave to my borderline personality disorder and wanting the validation of a loved one. The night Halloween is all but a reminder to the many costumes I have worn recently to attract and be intriguing to potential matches.  My sense of identity is gone the only thing I know is that I am living in an episode of a horror anthology of my creation. This is why dating is a 21st century horror story for me.