Sorry, I'm too tired for commitment tonight.

Darling, we’ve had a wonderful evening together–a nice talk at dinner with your parents, hanging out with my friends afterward. But now that it looks like we’re back at your place for the night, I want to make sure you don’t get any wrong ideas. I’m too tired for commitment tonight.

Really, I’ve always believed in quitting while I’m ahead. It’s not that I don’t care about you–but you know what the guys are saying. “She’s just in it for the commitment.” I don’t want our friends to get the wrong idea about our relationship. You know and I know that there’s more to our relationship than whether or not I’ll be around when you wake up tomorrow morning.

It’s important that we don’t get carried away. This sort of thing could lead anywhere–one of us could get hurt–and we don’t want to do anything we’d regret. At least I don’t. I’m not very comfortable with “we” just yet. A lot of couples out there are committing lemmings, but you and I aren’t like that. We have the kind of love that transcends whether I will ever see, think, or hear of you again.

If you really care about this relationship, you’d be willing to wait until it means something to me too. Perhaps I’ll be more in the committing mood tomorrow night? I know, I know. I said that last night too. But last night I had a headache. You know how much I hate commitment when I have a headache. The night before? We’d just watched that Bond movie. I’d feel so insensitive if I committed to something after a movie like that.

And what about protection? We both know unprotected commitment can lead into all kinds of things. Like children. We’re definitely not ready for children. Is this something we really should be doing now?

I guess I’m a little old fashioned. I really don’t believe in commitment before marriage. This whole carpe diem, gather ye rosebuds thing has a lot more seizing and holding than I’m comfortable with. Why not let the poor roses bloom in an unfettered way? Sure, they’ll wilt in the fall–but they’ll wilt faster when you pick them.

Why don’t you take a shower to calm down, and when you get back, I’m sure you’ll find me much less... proximate.