My Girlfriend's Pregnant, But Philosophical

A couple weeks ago I found out that my girlfriend's pregnant. The news didn't travel as fast as it should have--and I blame Canada Post for that. Now that I know the facts, I'm starting to work this thing out. Mainly through paint, but words help too.

She goes to Columbia, where she's working toward a PhD in philosophy. I, of course, live in Toronto. We met a few years ago at a family function (a wedding in Manhattan), and, when we realized we weren't related, we started to get along pretty well. I see her at Christmas break and during the summer; I visit her during Thanksgiving and some of the Jewish high (holy)(holi)days. It's a long-distance relationship, but, to be honest, I like it that way. No one asks me where I'm going; I don't have to watch any movie starring (a shirtless) Matthew McConaughey, and I can dress myself without comment.

So she writes me a letter telling me the baby's not mine. She's not going to keep it, but it's not mine. That kind of seems like the type of news you'd keep to yourself, but, as I said, she's a philosophy doctoral student. Morality looms large for her. I once saw her refuse to pick up change she'd found on the street on the premise that its rightful owner could come back for the forty-five cents. We were outside a theatre on Broadway, and a guy had dropped a handful of coins, jumped into a waiting car, and driven off. I said, "I don't think limos can make u-turns."

I haven't checked, but I assume we're the only couple that can write "The Categorical Imperative" on the Stats. Can. form under the heading "Reason for breakup."

And the letter was quite thorough. She took me from Plato through Kant, leaving me at Baudrillard, with a post-script on how she just can't live by Schopenhauer's rules anymore. We had the same conversation a few months ago after I took her to see a midnight showing of "Crimes and Misdemeanors." Some people's minds are always snapping, crackling, and...eventually, pop.

"David," she writes, "I made a mistake. And though I think we might be able to work through it, I'm not sure if I could justify such an act--ontologically, it would not be kind." I guess I am a little caught up in this whole academic thing, but, for crissakes, can we leave ontology out of this.

I don't want to get into any freewheeling arguments or digressions on the morality of other relevant acts heretofore committed, but it goes without saying that my reply didn't draw on the same learned themes as Loren's (her name) missive. I actually called her. I was out of stamps. But I said something like, I don't know, "Meditate on the third rail."

Now that I'm single again, I kinda like it. A lot less reading.