Old Times Sake

Last night, I spent 3 hours on the phone talking to a guy that I knew from middle school. He (let's call him A) and I, both 31 and single, childless, well-educated, successful professionals, took a long stroll down memory lane after reconnecting on Facebook. In strolling, we briefly discussed marriage and kids and our mutual lack of either. A wants a wife and children. He's ready. As Carrie described it in SATC, his light is on, just like a taxi, telling women he's available for marriage. However, A is, like many single women I know, tired of dating.
He made some interesting comments that rang true to me in a sense, but still did not resolve my dating dilemmas. A said that he was "the perfect catch" in Baltimore for all of the aforementioned reasons. In addition, he had his own place, independent of his parents; had a car; and until recently, a job (damned recession!). In his mind, that made dating a breeze. So when A went out with women and told them of his "qualifications" he didn't understand what else there was to consider. He joked that it doesn't even matter if they like each other or not. They should simply get together to protect the structure of the black family and propagate the species of well-educated, successful, black people in Baltimore.
Having spent five years of my single life in the Baltimore/DC area, I feel his pain. Dating is tough. It actually sucks sometimes. Ok, it actually sucks a lot. The number of men like A that I meet in Baltimore are grossly outnumbered by the uneducated, gold tooth having, mama living, bus riding, baby daddies that abound. I could get numbers from those guys all day and am often tempted by some of the better groomed ones until I find out how many kids they have.
In a complaint to another single friend about dating men with children, she said to me, "We're getting to the age that most men will already have children." That was at least five years ago. I didn't believe it then and I don't believe that's true now either. I still keep hope alive that I am not a dying breed and neither are men of my kind. There must be tons of young, well-educated, single, childless, black professionals who want to get married.
The thing I fear most is the desperation. A is clearly desperate. I hate it for his future wife. To think that he might actually marry a woman that he doesn't really like is disturbing. The fact that he would verbalize it, even more so. I wonder when love (or even like) fell out of the equation for him. I wonder if that will ever happen to me.
The lack of love also got me thinking about the whole idea of marriage. Why is it that A and I both want to get married? Is it for love? Not in his case. Is it for comfort and convenience? Partially. We discussed the laborious nature of everything from cooking for one (he made me remember that I miss Steakums), to laundry, to coordinating your dust ruffle with your comforter. I told he the hallmark of love is when he finds a woman who is willing to wash his dirty draws- that's love. Is it for consistent access to sex? I guess not as I hear it decreases after marriage, but it might be nice. Is it for status? Definitely. Marriage makes all of us young, well-educated, single, childless, black professionals the total package. Like Michelle and Barak, the world's greatest power couple, black love can conquer all. Putting two of us together is an instant recipe for success. Essence and Ebony will do cover stories on us. We will be role models for other black marriages and the envy of all our single friends. Marriage is the jewel in the crown of black success, which is why so many of us find it so elusive.
For everything else there is a formula. Going to school + speaking proper English + dressing appropriately + getting a good job + house + car = success. Been there. Done that. When I was in Baltimore over the summer, I ran into many old friends who'd also followed that path. However, the majority of us are still single. There is no formula for love. A few of my male friends actually tried it on with me again. I believe out of this same desperation that fuels A's love life. I'm the perfect catch in Baltimore too! I'm young, smart, funny, pretty, well-educated, articulate, well-traveled, cultured, poised, financially independent (no house or car, but great credit!), single, and childless. I flirted a bit, drank the free drinks and basked in the attention, but it all still seemed wrong to me. Too good to be true somehow.
A mutual friend said that A had a crush on me. Of course he does, he has since we met in middle school and I fit his mold. I also fit the mold of those other guys who knew me back in the day. We all did what we were supposed to do and became successful. We're all searching for the jewel to make a crowns of success shine even brighter. We all think that maybe (s)he's THE ONE, but is (s)he? Or does (s)he simply seem comfortable and familiar while fitting the mold?
I often worry that my standards are too high and I'm missing out on THE ONE because of my no kids rule, or my education preference. At the same time, I recognize that those are important aspects of life to me, which is why I hold them in such high esteem. As I've gotten older, I've opened my mind to the options of men who are not college educated or have children- my summer crush fit into both categories. Still I haven't found THE ONE. I fear becoming the wife of A- a man who doesn't love me, but tolerates me because of his desperate need to seem successful by being married. Conversely, A has renewed my faith in the existence of black men who want to marry. I just want to be sure that THE ONE for me is doing it for all the right reasons- me.