You Probably Won't Tell Him Chapter Two

Who are you married to?

You are married to a person  that wanted to marry you at the same time you wanted to marry him. Or maybe you felt like getting married and he was all warmed up on the bench and eager to get into the game.  Or maybe this guy had decided it was time to get married and you were the closest thing available and you met his acknowledged or unconscious criteria. Or, perhaps ideally, you met each other and some electrical or chemical force developed between the two of you and you could not stand to breathe unless this person was in your immediate proximity.

In some situations, surely not the majority of them, the suitor hunted down the suitee and compelled that person to succumb by sneaky, devious, seductive or perhaps extraordinarily forceful means to enter the marital union.  Who knows?  You yourself probably ask yourself every now and then how you got into this (mess) or why the heck did you ever think you could tolerate this person for 24 more minutes much less the rest of  your life. Most marriages have a really personal rationale as the foundation.  There are so many scenarios that the Romance writers should never run out of ideas.  And, it absolutely slays me when someone comments on a fiction story and says that would never play out in real life.  Oh, yeah?  You’re sure of that?  I bet I can even one up it on a dare.

Perhaps the husband or partner is immensely flattered that he/she was chosen by you.  Perhaps that partner looks around every single day and says “I could have/should have done better.  I shouldn’t have been so hasty.  What the fuck am I doing here and how the fuck did I get here?” Or perhaps it is you thinking that.

Perhaps you chose your partner because the guy you just broke up with wanted to marry you and you really really liked him but he had a really small penis. or he wasn’t very tall, or his voice was squeaky, or his dad seemed like a pervert. or his child support payments were astronomical.  Perhaps you married a guy that you have known for a long time, maybe even like ten years, and you have gone through the second string and found most of them wanting, so you went with the starter.  You brought him back into the game.  You are never going to tell the guy these reasons.  If he/she is in a mushy sort of mood and says he is so glad he married you and, really, what was it about him that made up your mind?  You are going to quick think up some cliche romantic scenario that has  nothing what so ever to do with or even reflects on your actual criteria.

Truth is he doesn’t really want to know and, in fact, you are way better off never knowing what his actual criteria are.  Nor do you want to know the moment of weakness that convinced him he might as well be married cuz all his pals are and people are starting to look at him funny.  Let’s just go with the feeling in the pit of your stomach when he walks in the room, the idea that he is the only person in the whole world, and you did check, that you could imagine spending your life with.

When a young lady is reading a bridal magazine, does she ever pause and get a far away look in her eyes and imagine to herself what it will be like lying next to this guy that just had the He-Man Platter at Grande Jakes for dinner and is laying there peacefully farting away in his dreams while you wonder if the sheets are going to be stained by it.  No.  I know that for a fact.  No.  She never thinks that.  Here is a great idea.  In the dead center of the bride magazine, after the articles about selecting the perfect venue, the perfect menu, the perfect, mind-blowing dress, and before all the expensive photos of the beautiful, if somewhat chubby, bride and her handsome, but somewhat balding, husband, they should put an article that you or I brilliantly penned, complete with outrageous photos and cartoons, dealing with that exact subject.

That’s never gonna happen.

Photo Attribution:    www.123rf.com

Holding On

Every marriage has its ups and downs. This cannot be news  to anyone, married, single, or otherwise. In fact, I doubt that anyone gets to the altar (so to speak) without first experiencing what is at the time considered to be life altering trauma. This is probably the major advantage the royal marriages of the past held over modern customs. Often they never even saw the spouse-to-be until hours or days after the party arrived from a far away land, and in some circumstances walked down the aisle with a person that gave them shivers of disgust. Yet this is how they were raised, how their customs evolved through necessity and perhaps convenience. And, in most cases, the obligation of begetting offspring was carried out in good order. We hear, usually in Historical Romance, but sometimes from supposed genuine historical chronicles, that there were marriages of great love and passion. But one of my favorite fiction authors who specializes in enjoyable retellings of the sundry machinations of various ancient monarchies, recently published a book about a not too well known real queen who was terribly in love with her prearranged partner. In fact, it was widely reported that he, in turn, adored her which led her to a lifetime (well in this case the marriage lasted about six years) of wondering about and being hurt by the fact that he refused to give up his string of mistresses. I am not choosing to read this one.  Cluelessness can only take a person so far.

For myself, I am of the opinion that today romantic ideals about marriage are not dead but in fact are held in such esteem that people go into marriage expecting doves to fly out of the bathroom every morning to herald another day of blissful union. This could be, I assert, the very reason that so many marriages do not last. Pure disillusionment. And perhaps more than that, disappointment.

Every couple has to hold on through the rough patches and, if and when they do so, they do it not knowing if it is going to be worth their while. There is, of course,  all this stuff about the integrity and commitment that put the real value on the married state. Too bad nobody bothers to talk about how much fun it is. Sometimes.

So hold on to what you’ve got and try to keep that song from running through your head now. You probably shouldn’t probe too deeply into why you are holding on. That will become apparent when you realize you have lost your grip and cannot hold on any longer. But I am pretty sure the best thing to hold onto is the cluelessness. If you are considering ending a disappointing marriage, realize that any other version of marriage that you may look forward to or seek or fall into is going to have just as many rough spots. They come in all sizes and shapes.

The Never Ending War

A female who was formerly earning her living as what she labeled a high class escort has written a book about why men cheat.  The discussion about this book has been raging on Huff Post Books for several days.  People point out that she only knows about guys who use “escorts” for cheating.  This is probably a very  small percent of the entire group of “cheating men” who mess around with their  neighbor or the mail lady or some chick at work.  Then, she is only reporting what these men tell her.  First of all, they are “speaking” in a somewhat enhanced milieu under the influence of large doses of oxytocin and serotonin, and they may be embellishing their tales to gain sympathy or absolve themselves in the eyes of their benefactor. And, please do not tell me I know nothing about it.  I once knew some one intimately that received a visit from a call girl as a birthday present.  I can match any of your stories in spades.  Try me.

This slays me.  That it is given any legitimacy   I am becoming so callous about the whole male-female interaction thing.  SHUT UP.  You have no clue.  Then the arguments rage on.  The male is programmed to mate with multiples.  I have documented references in my book that PROVE there are proteins on the surface of the egg that interact with sperm to encourage monogamy.  Then there is all the genetic, epigenetic, cultural  and anthropological evidence about Neanderthals with too big heads and other things mother nature does to preserve  and improve the gene pool.

Then there are hundreds of remarks about why a husband can do it, should do it, would do it, must do it, (be unfaithful) shouldn’t do it.  This is interspersed with the remarks from the females about how their husband turned into a schlub and how she kept herself slim and fucked his brains out but he still cheated, and “throw the bum out’ and philosophy and religion, and law concerning the matter.  It all amounts to a hill of beans.  If any rules are left, they usually are broken.  Okay.  Maybe not inYOUR case, but in just about every other one.  And you can’t say for sure, even about your own case, because you don’t KNOW. For the sake of all that is good and holy, do you not know that there are women out there, right now, that find unfresh female skivvies under the seat in the car and believe the “reasons” they are given for why they are there?

Yes. I AM the ultimate cynic.  I have the credentials.  I also know what havoc MY very immediate family has wreaked on the gene pool.  I write fiction to deal with my confusion and disappointment in matters of love.  Then people criticize my adorable fictional creations for their lack of moral scruples.  It is to laugh.  You have NO IDEA.  If I hear one more person say, “Well, that happens all the time.  People just don’t talk about it,” I may scream or commit mayhem.

The news of the last few days is so fucked up.  Officials we are supposed to be able to trust with the well being of our selves and our children stand in front of the camera wearing their brand new ties and lie to the entire world.  What?  Do they say a prayer at night asking God to forgive them for telling those very necessary lies and go to sleep believing the gates of heaven are open to them?  These are very serious things to lie about involving the welfare of our Nation.  Doesn’t anybody out there give a shit anymore?  Why anybody can or would  focus on that “squirt in the dark” at this point is beyond me.  But when the few remaining humans rise from the ashes, the first thing they argue about is not going to be some stupid apple.  It’s gonna be, “I saw her first.” And she is going to toss her unwashed hair over her shoulder and flutter her eyelashes.

Photo Attribution:  atomicgator.wordpress.com