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The Moment

The Moment
The Moment
Sometimes there's nothing to say…

It's commonly said by those bitter; by those smitten; by those naive and by all others who, frankly, annoy me, that “when you know, you know.”

Fair enough.

I agree with that generally accepted “true-ism.” You know what you know when you know it. Often this is applied to those that suddenly know the lover they carry a candle for is “the one.” That single moment in time where things just sorta makes sene.

However, that “moment” isn't reserved for just those times of joyous clarity. They, too, are applied to those other moments. You know what I'm talking about: “Oh my god, I married a drunken hobo that refuses to grow up!” Or “OMG!!! I married someone just like my dad!”  I realize that, for some, marrying someone like your dad is probably just fine. For others, that's not so fine (especially those who cry while giving BJs and lap dances at the strip club).

So what am I getting at here? Moments of clarity, folks. They don't happen often, given the mass amounts of info that assault our senses on a daily basis. It's hard to cut through the clutter; it's hard to figure out what requires our attention most. Just the other day, though, I had one of those moments.

My body had given itself to a Russian Vodka and an Herbalist that night. To be fair, I'd probably given too much of myself to these friends.  But it was on my way home that I made some realizations. I wasn't happy. In life, with myself, with my relationship and a whole host of other things.

In this moment of booze and medicinal induced clarity I knew that I was lying to myself and to my girlfriend. I knew that what we had was not for the long-haul. There's an expiration date and I didn't want to see it or think of it. Why? Because I am weak. It's not because my girlfriend isn't good enough. It's a simple fact that our directions have different paths in life. I don't want kids. She does.

Here's a little known fact, at one point, last year; we were expecting a baby. My girlfriend had become pregnant. My heart dropped. It was the last thing I'd wanted. Over the course of a few weeks, I grew to accept that I was going to be a father. I, like a good Republican backing a candidate in their own party that they hate, fell in line. I said all the right things to the right people. For my girlfriend, she couldn't have been more overjoyed. This was going to be her moment to change her life; she would have a purpose. For me, in reality, I loathed the notion of being a parent. It's not a duty I wanted. For many, children are a blessing. I am not one among the many, I'm afraid.

A mere 10 weeks into the pregnancy, my girlfriend miscarried. I was there, with her, sharing tears and gut-wrenching angst over what had happened. We grieved together. More than anything though, I felt so awful for my girlfriend. She, of anyone I know, deserves a child. She's amazing with them and would give of herself until there was nothing left and yet find ways to give more. That's who she is.  As I held her embrace and felt her crumbling… Yet I could not help but feel… relieved. I know, I know. It's absolutely terrible to say, but it's the truth. That night I told her, one day we'd try again. Again, I was weak. I lied. I wasn't strong enough to tell her “no, I don't want to try again” especially given the fact we weren't “trying” in the first place.

No. I don't want children. My girlfriend should. Our time together is ticking away… Me, I'm not spending this time with someone of a similar mind and her not spending time with someone that wants to give her what she wants.

Yet here I sit, tap tap tap and I'm not doing anything about it…. At all.

Is it just that I partook of too much drink and herb? Well, I did, but they merely helped me see the forest through the trees as I sit here, with an open and clear mind.

I had just that. A moment…

Author Profile

Alex is the founder and managing editor at the Urban Dater. Alex also runs: DigiSavvy, for which he is the co-founder and Principal. Alex has a lot on his mind. Will he ever get it right? If he does, he'll be sure to write.

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