Okay, I hear ya. When this happened to Monica on Friends, everything turned out a-okay, because she got Chandler! And twins!

Am I really the only one who saw it as a sick, sick joke that Monica had to give up MAGNUM PI and that her consolation prize was a big, obnoxious doofus with zero relationship savvy? And that then, to top it all off, wasn't even able to have her own children and was forced to adopt the spawn of some lead paint eatin' HALF WIT they met on the Internet?

Really? I'm the only one who doesn't find that at all comforting? Huh.

If life imitates art (or sitcoms), then um, one-two-three not it.

It was like going to a party all dressed up, looking like a million bucks and knowing it. Standing in the center of the room, head thrown back, laughing, all lit up from the inside. Charming, witty and wonderful. That's how he made me feel all the time. Like I was this sparkly, amazing gift that the Publisher's Clearing House Prize Patrol left on his doorstep and he just couldn't believe his luck.

And I was happy. I was relaxed and one hundred percent myself all the time. And not just accepted, but adored for it. I didn't care about the age difference, because it didn't seem to matter. Except in the singular instance when it did.

"I'm afraid that after I say this, I'm never going to see you again."

I knew what he was going to say. It had been hanging in the air between us for a while, but I hadn't been any more anxious to hear it than he was to say it. I wanted to be a mother one day. He's already had his shot at parenting and didn't want to do it again. He was crazy about me, but afraid I'd be missing out on the chance to have what I really deserved.

When I woke up this morning and rolled over in bed, it took a minute for the conversation to push its way into my head. I hid in bed for a long while, feeling sick and conflicted. I got up, paced the hallway. Then sank to my knees on the carpet and cried.

I surprised myself by being so upset. So mad at the universe for being unfair, for forcing me into deciding between certain happiness now, and a fuzzy hope for it sometime down the road. And sad.

Because I was happy, and now I'm not.