My commitment and attachment issues aren't content to stay in the arena of male humans and has now extended to cities. After an eighteen month romance with Dublin, I spent this last weekend having a completely unforeseen and vaguely torrid affair with my old flame, London.

I was supposed to be in town just for the day on Friday for a meeting but after missing a flight and making a measured decision to be more spontaneous, decided to stay the weekend and come back Monday night.

I don't know what happened. I've always liked London, I've even loved London before. Over a year ago I secured a visa for myself, which was one of the hardest things I've ever done--it involved compiling over 100 pages of original documents and affidavits--and then never moving. It wasn't an easy breakup for me, but I thought Dublin was a more stable relationship; Dublin would appreciate me more.

But then after seeing London again, so dashing, so handsome, I've started to reconsider. Things haven't been going well with Dublin for the last little while. We don't have any serious problems, but it's those day-to-day issues that are the ones that I can't handle. It's the things that I initially loved that are starting to irk me. It's too small. It's too laid back. There's no Ikea. We're just not as compatible as I once let myself believe.

But then I start to wonder--is this about me or Dublin? Why haven't I lasted anywhere, settled down? Since leaving my parents' house at 17, I've moved to New York, to California, to New York, to California, to Dublin, to California, to Dublin. I've never lasted more than a few years each time. Is my inability to geographically commit an endearing foible or can I just not keep my wanderlust in my pants?