Of course, Peter Pans can be fun because they usually act like kids. They like to go out and play and shun anything to do with responsibility and growing up. They can make you feel young too. But isn’t there a point where we’re supposed to grow up? Can’t growing up be fun?

I for one enjoy growing up. And there was nothing more annoying than my ex who was constantly depressed about getting older. When it came to anything involving responsibility, he cringed and said, “why couldn’t I have just stayed in high school forever? Wouldn’t that be awesome?”

Um, no.

I wouldn’t go back to re-live high school if you paid me in cupcakes. I found myself having to coach the ex along in his everyday life, as if he were a child. And I was his mother. And this is exactly what he wanted. He felt comforted having someone direct him and keep him on track.

I tried to convince him of all the awesome-ness of growing up. The things you can do as an adult that you can’t do as a child: go out without asking permission, make and spend your own money however you want, sex, driving, the list goes on and on. But he wasn’t affected. He just wanted to play and refused to be held accountable for his actions.

In order to live with a Peter Pan, you need to be a Wendy. And Wendy I am not. While we all know what happened at the end of the Peter Pan movie, I don’t think most of us have the patience to put up with the immaturity in the meantime. If your boyfriend thinks he’s Peter Pan, I’d fly away for now and just hope that Tinker Bell comes along soon.