The Ethical Player - This Is Trouble

The Ethical Player

This morning, I said goodbye to my main and favorite girl in Poland.

And as I got into the Uber at her apartment, I was really upset. Because I came to the realization that this is now the third goodbye I’ve said to a great girl in the last half a year (here is the first, and here is the second).

It’s really upsetting.

Because it’s almost unavoidable. As you keep moving forward in life, you inevitable leave people behind. There’s no choice, else you become stagnant. But here I am, trampling all over hearts and moving on to the next like there’s no tomorrow.

In fact, there is no tomorrow in sight.

I’m a bit of an “old soul”. Always have been. Always will be. Ask some of the guys I hang out with who are ten, fifteen, or twenty years older than me. I get along much better with them than I do people my own age.

So from an emotional sense, I’m old.

Which leads to my codundrum.

Eventually, I want a family and kids. I know that. I’ve realized I will not want to be a player forever.

The problem is that the future Mrs. Trouble is probably somewhere between 10-12 years old right now.

I’m not a fool – I know if I were to settle down now, I’d be trading my future prime for a girl’s decaying assets. I realize that I would never forgive myself for doing so, and would probably end up resenting Mrs. Trouble, too.

Sex and relationships are transactional in nature. Gripe all you want that it takes the romance out of things, but I’m a realist. I don’t live in a Disney-fantasy world. As far as I’m concerned, if a girl is getting a guy like me in his prime, I want her prime too.

A fair trade.

Which means that when I’m in my prime in the middle of my 30s, Mrs. Trouble should be aged somewhere between 18-22, give or take a couple of years.

So do the math on that.

I’m currently 24, and looking for at least a 10-12 year age gap.

Meaning that even if I ended up with a 22 year old, I’m still 11 (well, almost 10 now) years away from 35.

22 – 11 = 11.



Am I supposed to do in the meantime?

Just trample on the hearts of (potentially) dozens of girls for the next ten or more years? Leave some other guy to pick up the pieces? Granted, that was me at one point. I would’ve settled for the leftovers. I recognize that the universe must be “unfair” on paper in order to …well, keep order.

But I just wonder if it’s even fair to myself.

Will I wreck my own soul on a train that doesn’t have a stop for at least ten years?

Will it bite me in the ass?

All I know is that when I climbed in that car this morning – I felt like I was leaving a bit of myself behind, embracing her.

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