Recently I called it quits with great guy - funny, good in bed, nice family, even nicer beach house, full head of hair. We rather liked one another actually. His more mellow nature complimented my high strung neurosis and provided me space for much needed tranquility. I liked the way he smelled. We had a peaceful, sublime relationship, but the more intimate we became, the louder the nagging voice inside of me said "no." 

Then I sat down to write an article refuting Lisa Gottlieb's hair-brained case for "settling" for "Mr. Good Enough" when I realized I am the woman she argues should "settle." With my break-up speech already prepared, break-up playlist compiled and hair appointment set, suddenly, I didn't know what to do. I started a list of pros and cons (which never works for me, but I just tried it anyway), and the pros outweighed the cons but didn't outweigh my intuition. A couple glasses of champagne later I called him and said, "You are absolutely stellar in every single way, but I need to focus on my writing." Who breaks up with someone so wonderful? I wondered. Am I going to regret this? Am I a total moron? I reminded myself that actually I do need to focus on my writing, this isn't the right time for me and I don't have surplus energy to invest in this relationship right now.

I finished the champagne but didn't cry with regret. I politely but curtly responded to the email he sent saying that he missed me and ignored the text messages. Relieved that I could stay home and write rather than going out to dinner, I made a plan to eat less and lose five pounds. Sure, I missed snuggling and all that; but honestly, I'm too busy to snuggle. If you know me, you know I'm always focused on or worrying over some dude. What should I text back? Why isn't he making a plan? What to do? Who to be? How long to wait? Blah, blah, blah. For once in my life I'm really focused on something besides the guy I'm dating even if, ironically, said focus is every guy I've ever dated.

Dealing with so many dudes for so long, and finally I've picked up their envious ability to compartmentalize.

Now I meet a guy and find myself making disclaimers like, "I'm moving soon." or "I'm so busy I barely have time to shave my legs." and lots of other hints that translate: I don't want a boyfriend. When I'm at work, I don't even think about opposite sex situations that formerly had my head spinning. Unless they walk in the door to pay me a visit (and they do), they are out of sight, out of mind. Whether writing my retail report, practicing yoga, or cooking dinner, I focus on the task at hand rather than letting my mind wander to the currently annoying guy in my rotation. See also: live in the moment. This must be how guys operate. I'm becoming that which I write about...EXCEPT

I house a loudly ticking biological clock that has me looking up posh baby strollers and miniature Deisel jeans. When I see a baby I circle it like a vulture does a dead deer. Kids playing in the playground make sublimely happy and smiley. I have baby fever. No time to snuggle, but my body wants to make a baby.

When the proverbial ticking becomes louder than the voice screaming "no," then what do you do? Now that seems like the only case for settling. You can only pray that the two miraculously coincide. Otherwise, you settle for the beach house. It's no yacht, but it will have to do.

Emma Dinzebach