There's something about White Sox baseball this year that reminds me of that summer romance where you're on an emotional roller coaster. You're dancing on clouds, feeling like the center of the universe one minute, and singing emo music feeling like your heart has been ripped out the next.
As the Sox are well under .500, there are plenty of reasons to cut your losses and belt out "I Will Survive." On the other hand, there have been plenty of things that have helped you understand what Danny and Sandy were all giddy about in "Grease."
Break up with …
There have been a lot of relationships that just haven't worked, no matter how hard we've tried. I'm sure many Sox fans have tried to forget about the starts of Felipe Paulino and the relief appearances of Scott Downs as quickly as you can change your relationship status on Facebook.
And while I've wanted him to succeed, Tyler Flowers' performance is becoming akin to that hopeless relationship about which all your friends say: "I told you he'd break your heart. He does just enough to keep you coming back."
Carry a torch for …
Emo music off. As Soxman is a hopeless romantic, I tend to focus on the good things.
Remember the "Brady Bunch" episode where Bobby kissed the girl and saw fireworks? That's the feeling Sox fans have watching rookie phenomenon Jose Abreu. With 29 home runs and 73 RBIs already, you can't help but believe this relationship has long-term potential. Most fans old enough to remember Hall of Famer Frank Thomas' rookie season are again getting butterflies when Abreu steps to the plate.
Chris Sale's dedication to dominating hitters with his electric fastball and filthy slider gives you confidence that he will never let you down. Even when he's not at his best, you have a feeling he will always be there for you. While some may argue his lanky frame and violent delivery have him destined for surgery, I believe if his innings are handled the right way, he could show us many happily ever afters in August and September.
Speaking of happily ever after, September no doubt will be a tear-filled ending that would put the end of "The Notebook" to shame as we say goodbye to Paul Konerko. While he hasn't received the same fanfare as Derek Jeter, I haven't attended a home game this year when fans haven't cheered louder or clapped harder when Paulie's name was announced. After all, his time in Chicago has been a storied romance. He represents the heart of the South Side, while being the last representative of our greatest love story ever told: winning the 2005 World Series. He may go away, but that love will last forever.
Soxman is a RedEye special contributor.