Adding Another Secret

I find myself referring to Adam Piggott quite a bit. He’s got a lot going on with his site. Last week he had a piece about how to save your marriage. I have a few thoughts about that.

The secret is having kids. Then again, we are devout Catholics, Herself and I, with kids. And she still fucked off after thirty two years of marriage. Take that for what it’s worth. That said, it may he a chicken and egg thing here. Is it having kids? or is it simply the willingness to give of yourselves and have as many as God let’s you have? A noodle bender for sure.

Last post, I said I stumbled on a smaller over 50 dating site, and promised to do some testing. I’m pretty much done, although one is still in progress. The funny one. That said, anyone who has been a reader of Adam’s or Vox Day’s work knows exactly what I’m finding out. But I came to a realization, more for the women than me.

You see, girls, the reason you marry when you are younger, and stay married, is that for the most part when he looks at you, even in your old age, he sees the beautiful young woman he married. Herself would always act as if I were lying to her when I told her I thought she was beautiful. Indeed, not more than a few months ago I had that very thought as I looked at her on the couch, watching TV with me.

She came over this weekend to pick up stuff whilst I wasn’t there. I noticed things missing (like a pile of mail), and checked the security cameras to see why. Low and behold, there she was with a friend, walking across the back yard which gave me a road to Emmaus moment.

Then their eyes were opened and they recognized him, and he disappeared from their sight.

Luke 24:31

My eyes were opened and I recognized who she was now (and apparently for at least a year), her beauty disappeared from my eyes. What I saw were two old ladies waddling across my lawn whom I wouldn’t give a second glance if I encountered them at a WalMart.

How incredibly sad is that?

Another thing to mourn, I suppose. My memories now altered forever. When I was decluttering I ran into a stack of photos from our wedding. She was an objectively beautiful young woman. Yet I felt nothing looking at them. No different than a picture in a magazine. I nearly chucked them in the trash. Why not? they’re duplicates of whatever is in the album, wherever it is.

That’s a crucial thing to understand. How many articles are out there with the woman author, usually in her 40s complaining she’s now invisible? I stumble on 2-3 a year. That guy you’re complaining about? He may be the only one you get. That greener grass on the other side of the fence? Most of the time it’s astro-turf.

Food for thought, anyhow.