NEVER WILL I TRY

Jabari sat alone in his dimly lit apartment, the faint hum of city life outside his window providing an oddly comforting soundtrack to his thoughts. A half-empty glass of whiskey rested on the coffee table in front of him, the amber liquid catching the glow of a streetlamp outside. Tonight was one of those rare evenings when he allowed himself to reflect on his choices, particularly those concerning his love life-a subject that often left him teetering between laughter and exasperation.

Sandra, Cecilia, Lola. Their names echoed in his mind like chapters in a book he regretted reading but couldn't put down.

Sandra was the first. He met her during his senior year of college, a whirlwind romance that began in a coffee shop over a shared table during finals week. She was vibrant, ambitious, and full of energy. At first, he was mesmerized by her charm. Sandra had a way of making the mundane seem magical-every date felt like an adventure. But as the months wore on, Jabari began to notice cracks in the foundation of their relationship. Sandra's ambitions were, as he later realized, entirely self-centered. Her dreams left no room for him.

The breakup came during a dinner date she had scheduled between her networking events. "You're great, Jabari," she said, her voice dripping with condescension, "but I'm just not the type to settle." He remembered sitting there, stunned, while she waved down the waiter for the check and left him to pay.

He laughed bitterly now as he thought about it. Sandra was the kind of woman who could have written a book titled How to Use People and Move On. And yet, for a time, he'd thought she might be "the one."

Then came Cecilia. Sweet, soft-spoken Cecilia who had seemed like the antithesis of Sandra. He met her at a mutual friend's barbecue, and she had this quiet grace about her that drew him in immediately. She was a teacher, loved kids, and spoke passionately about making a difference in her students' lives.

"Finally," Jabari had thought, "someone grounded." But what he didn't realize was that beneath Cecilia's calm exterior was a storm of unresolved issues. Her insecurities and trust issues quickly became the center of their relationship. Every conversation felt like walking through a minefield; one wrong word and everything would explode. She questioned his every move, accused him of being too friendly with coworkers, and even once followed him to a work happy hour to "see for herself."

It ended after one particularly volatile argument about him liking an old friend's Instagram post. She screamed, he yelled back, and they both said things that couldn't be unsaid. Cecilia's parting words-"You're just like all the others"-stung more than he cared to admit, not because they were true, but because he'd genuinely tried to make it work.

And then there was Lola. Oh, Lola. The one who left him questioning his sanity. They met at an art gallery opening, and she was a vision of spontaneity and creativity. She had an infectious laugh and a free spirit that made Jabari feel alive in ways he hadn't in years. With Lola, every day was an adventure-midnight drives to nowhere, impromptu picnics in the park, dancing in the rain.

But Lola's free spirit came with a price: instability. She couldn't hold down a job, didn't believe in schedules, and had a penchant for disappearing for days at a time without so much as a text. When she finally returned, she'd act as though nothing had happened.

"You're too rigid, Jabari," she'd say whenever he confronted her. "Life's about living in the moment."

Their relationship was like a rollercoaster: thrilling, unpredictable, and ultimately exhausting. The final straw came when she maxed out his credit card on what she called "a spiritual retreat" without asking. He ended it that same day, and though she cried and pleaded, he knew there was no future with someone who treated life like one big, irresponsible adventure.

Now, as he sat in his apartment, replaying these relationships in his mind, Jabari couldn't help but laugh at the absurdity of it all. Each woman had taught him something, even if those lessons came wrapped in heartbreak. Sandra had taught him to recognize selfish ambition. Cecilia had shown him the dangers of unchecked insecurity. And Lola? Lola reminded him that passion without stability was a recipe for chaos.

But what about him? Were his choices a reflection of something deeper? Was he chasing the wrong type of women, or was he the common denominator in these failed relationships?

He sighed and leaned back on the couch, staring at the ceiling. Maybe he needed to take a break from dating altogether, focus on himself for a while. He poured the last of the whiskey into his glass and raised it in a mock toast.

"Here's to better choices," he said aloud, the words hanging in the quiet room.

Tomorrow, he'd start fresh. But tonight, he'd allow himself one last moment to sit with the memories-of Sandra, Cecilia, and Lola-and the hope that, somewhere out there, was someone who wouldn't become just another name in his reflections.