As I get older, I feel like I’m working against some unknown time limit. Like I better get started if I want to have a family of my own. I know women when they reach 40 it’s harder for them to bare children. So they do have a biological clock, but men I know we can still impregnant women when were old and gray, in our 60′s at least. Hell I was watching an interview with the late great Luciano Pavorotti. He had a kid at 65. The thing is I want to enjoy my childs, childhood if it were. I want to play ball with him, do things with him, show him a world I never seen before.
I have always never really cared if a women spends time with me or not. If they want to spend time with me, and have fun. Cool. If not I’ll find someone else. I want a women who wants to be with me, and spend time with me. Lately though I feel this weight on me, like my chances are passing me by. I refuse to settle for anyone though, as time goes by my standards have gone down. Not really in terms of looks, but in terms of shit I will put up with from girls.
I want to be in love, and be loved. I always wanted the wife, the dog, the house, the kids, the white picket fence, but as the years go by, that dream like sand in my hand is slipping through. It sucks being an idealist.
But I wonder is this some sort of biological clock alarm going off?
