Please Don't Cry

-OR-

Why being a genuinely nice guy makes me feel like a chump from time to time

The ultimate issue for me and K - her ticking clock versus my recently minted detachment from all domestic entanglement - has now come to the head I'd expected. For those of you who missed all of sex ed, biology, National Geographic, and Dirty Dancing: The having of sex and the making of babies are linked. And therefore baby tension will eventually impact sex.

K is about to enter, or has entered, her more fertile moments this month. So I was cautious this weekend.

Sunday morning, mid frolic, when (based on my assessment) K sensed I was, once more, not going to leave the creation of a baby to chance, but instead delegate the prevention of a baby to latex, I could feel her emotions shift. And in seconds I had a sobbing girlfriend on my hands.

Now guys who think it's only fun when the stripper's crying may have been able to set aside the exigency of the day and carry on. I, however, am not one of those guys.

No words were needed. We both knew what was going on. We also knew that the issue had now officially invaded the final frontier of the bedroom, and could no longer be ignored.

K pulled herself together enough to make a noon social event with me. Jim Beam and a few bloody Mary's were part of her self-help strategy. I was a little concerned with the "drinking while sad to feel better", but chose to take an "ends justify the means" perspective. At least she wasn't sobbing in bed, home alone by herself.

All she wants is a chance at being a mother. And at having a family, and a man in her life and the kids' life.

Women who get me are not a dime a dozen. My ideal woman is an extroverted, centered exotic brunette nymphomaniac triathlete. K is pretty damn close to my ideal.

Every article I've read says a woman in her late 30's has only a 10% shot at conception each month. The average woman K's age takes a year to get knocked up when trying.

All she wants is a chance. Every fiber of her being is crying out to become a mother. It's got to be the female equivalent of the 15 year old male desire to get laid. Instinct is powerful. And she'll feel that her life had a huge hole in it if she didn't try. And the window is closing. And she's ovulating. And her boyfriend is going for a condom. And what is she doing with her life?

So on Sunday night I chose to give her a chance.

I told her it's not a policy reversal, just a gift from me. Though I fear it's the beginning of a policy reversal.

I know she's got other options. She's made the choice to be with a guy 7 years her junior who's not, and has never pretended to be, at the same place she is in life. She could be going after this without me. But she wants to do it with me.

And I'm afraid that, once more in my life, I'm going along with the wishes of the woman I love when I think what she wants will be bad for me or us. I just can't stand to break a heart. It's not a rational choice on my part.

Today she's happy. This month, she's got a chance.