Tonight, I sat at a bar overlooking this little island of Manhattan, having drinks with a friend and his friend, who is a former colleague of mine. I listened patiently as my former colleague discussed the perils of being on the verge of turning 30, in a relationship that’s barely gone on for a year, yet his girlfriend is asking him questions about their “future” together, which she foresees as having marriage, two children, and a house in the suburbs.

“Life was so simple in my early to mid-twenties,” he lamented. “I could just party, have fun with girls, no commitment, no nothing. Now, I get questions on the future, ‘are you the one?’ Life is so complicated now.”

What is this, the common late twenties/early thirties whining of every male in the city of New York? You have a romantic relationship, a job, a place in life, and it’s not enough for you, and you don’t know if you have fully “maximized” and are unsure if what you have is “good enough?” This is why I could never be with a guy who was my age. The talking of “check boxes” that women must meet to be “the one” seems to be a reoccurring theme in discussions I’ve had on dating and marriage with guys around my age. I really don’t think that looking at relationships like a job spec sheet benefits anyone.