Too good to be true?
I broke up with my girlfriend today. She didn’t do anything wrong. I wasn’t bored or dissatisfied with her. We dated for almost a year, and I can count on one hand the number of times she made me unhappy. She’s an absolute doll and probably the best girlfriend I’ll ever have. Still, I broke up with her today, and I am certain it was the right thing to do.
I’m a 49-year-old divorcé with three children. When not working a 70-hour week or writing alimony and child support checks, I am trying hard to raise my children as if my divorce never happened. When doing none of the above, I’ve tried to create something resembling a life, mostly by spending time with my girlfriend.
My girlfriend is 32 years old. She’s smart, sexy and more fun than all of my male friends combined. Besides having the face of an angel and a body that can stop traffic, she never judges and she never makes demands. We don’t fight. The kids think she’s great. The sex is fantastic. She laughs at my jokes.
But I still broke up with her today. My right brain says it was the right thing to do. My left brain wants to know what the heck I’m thinking.
I’m thinking what I’ve been thinking since our first date. This wonderful, special woman is simply too young for me, and one of these days she’s going to realize it.
Forget the fact that our age difference never bothered her. Forget the fact that I was actually happy with a woman for the first time since I can remember. I always was certain we were destined for problems and that our age difference would be at the root of every single one.
So I decided to walk away -- because of what I think, instead of what I feel. I made a mature decision. I looked at the big picture. I did all this despite the little voice in my head that tells me it’s a decision I am likely to regret for the rest of my life.
My friends think I’m a complete moron for doing this. The guys are angry because they will no longer be able to ogle my girlfriend at parties or live vicariously through the tidbits I share. The women are disappointed because it’s another body blow to the hollow fantasy of relationships and marriage around which their lives have been built.
My 80-year-old mother doesn’t get it. My 19-year-old daughter doesn’t get it. Not one person in my circle of family and friends endorses this decision.
But what do they know? When she turns 40, I’ll be 57. I’ll be the guy whose wife has never placed an album on a turntable or dialed a rotary phone. I’ll be an established member of the AARP with a wife who is light-years from eligibility. Maybe these things aren’t important today, but who’s to say they won’t be important a few years down the road?
If statistics were kept on the result of every love affair with our age gap, I’d bet 99% of them bust sooner or later. I’m as romantic and openhearted as the next guy, but this isn’t the romance Olympics. You can’t hide from reality. If I wouldn’t bet $20 in Vegas against these odds, why would I risk what remains of my heart and soul on them?
So it’s done. I told her. She was shocked but not surprised. She cried, but not for very long. I thought I would be breaking her heart, but by the time I walked away from her, she actually looked relieved. Before getting in my car I turned to take one last look. She was talking on her cellphone. She was smiling.