The Age of Enlightenment

A couple of weeks ago I had dinner with a male friend who invariably tries to sleep with me each and every time he sees me. At a certain point in our lives, we saw each other several times a week, making his mission both frustrating and ludicrous, but this guy was relentless. The more I said no, the harder he tried. He was always a gentleman- holding open the door, helping me on with my coat, pulling out my chair, but he was a gentleman who did all of that so that later he could hold open his bedroom door, help me off with my coat and the rest of my clothes, while putting them on a chair next to his bed. They say the fun is in the chase, but after a while that just gets old. Maybe it's just me...
At dinner, for the first time since I've known him, he did NOT try to sleep with me. I was shocked! His whole demeanor had changed. He seemed more grounded, less slimy (I know I'm painting a horrible picture of this poor man, but he's my friend because he does have other redeeming qualities, I assure you.), and not lecherous in the least. It was such a change for me that I directly asked him what prompted the change. "Age," he told me. He's about eight years my senior, so in my view age would certainly have made it's impact on my life by the time I'm 38 because it has already impacted me and I'm only 30. However, after 30 years of life, he was Michelle at 23 (Which is when and how we became friends in the first place.) and I wrote him off as the eternal playboy. I saw him through a string of beautiful, but poorly treated women with whom he refused to establish anything other than a regular booty call. I always wondered why he never chose any of them to be "the one" and why he constantly sought to include me one in their ranks.
I realized that I was physically his "type"- black, petite, attractive, well traveled, and intelligent (Although, after meeting some of them, I found that intelligence was optional.). Since I was his type and he fashioned himself mine, I'm sure he was perplexed as to why I wouldn't give in to his attempts at seduction. The answer is that I thought he was a sleaze ball. I saw the way he treated other women and knew that I would never tolerate that behavior from him. I also valued my position as his conscience and truth sayer in his affairs with his array of lovers. I heard all the juicy details of each woman and the man-logic that excluded her from being "the one." This access allowed me to view my relationships with other men from the male perspective and make sense of behavior that might otherwise baffle me.
Our last encounter however, changed all that. He recounted the end of a failed relationship with a beautiful Italian woman whom he seemed to genuinely adore. By his account, the feelings were mutual and she happily served any purpose he required. She even ticked all the boxes when it came to his (long and bizarre) list of prerequisites (like living, or having lived, in Greece) for a woman who was "wife material." Given that such circumstances were a rarity for him, I could not understand why it ended. I couldn't see the chink in this wonder woman's armor, so I asked him what happened.
He said she might have been "the one" due to all of the aforementioned positive attributes however, despite her having lived in Greece, she never learned to speak Greek. That was important because he wanted his children to learn to speak it as well, so he dumped her. I suggested that since fluency in that language was not necessarily a useful skill these days that she might be justified in not having learned it. I offered that I probably wouldn't have bothered to learn it myself had I been her. I also suggested that he advise her to learn, teach her himself, or teach these imaginary children himself. I urged him to go to her, declare his love, and win her back. Alas, he said it was no use as the break up had already crushed both of them emotionally. He continued that it would be cruel to string her along by breaking up and making up again, so he'd resigned himself to letting her go.
Until this point, my friend would never have done anything remotely like this. My friend had been known to string girls along for months (and in one case years) on end merely for his own sexual satisfaction, feelings be damned. My friend lauded women who were too young and dumb to know better. My friend was exhausted at the mere thought of caring about a woman's feelings, let alone actually doing so. My friend was not to be trusted alone in a room with your girlfriend, sister, daughter, cousin, aunt... You get the idea. Consequently, hearing this story of heartbreak from him took me by surprise.
I wondered, what did this woman have that all of the others lacked. It could not be that she simply ticked all the boxes. There had to be more. I wondered what changed about my friend that caused him to suddenly feel. I wondered if the change was permanent. I wondered if he'd ever feel it again. I wondered if he'd scarred himself, and this woman, for life. So many questions raced through my head in an effort to comprehend this man that for so many years I've known, but never really understood.
Then I thought back to his word- age. He always dated younger women because he said the ones his age were too needy. They heard their biological clocks ticking loudly in their ears which drove them to say and do crazy things. Younger women did not have that pressure to reproduce and were thus easier for him to be noncommittal with his affection and time. Suddenly for him, at 38, the tables have turned. His biological clock has begun to beat like the tell tale heart. He yearns for a constant companion who will help him produce an heir to take care of him in his old age. My friend finally reached the male age of enlightenment. Unlike the 18th century philosophic movement marked by a rejection of traditional social, religious, and political ideas and an emphasis on rationalism, the male age of enlightenment marks a time when men realize that life isn't necessarily going according to plan. The time when men suddenly become open to marriage as a need in life and actively try to make it happen. Or, as it was metaphorically put in Sex and the City, their light goes on and they become available, like a taxi. The age of enlightenment is different for every man, but is a marked shift in mental schema. They go from being players to being fierce competitors. In my friend the transition was scary. I'm not sure that I even know him anymore.
We'll see how it goes the next time we see one another. If he hits on me, I'll know it was just a phase. If he doesn't, I'll keep him away from all of my under 25 friends.