Well, you know, it was just like he never grew up. Not one, NOT ONE TIME did he change a diaper, I basically raised those kinds on my own and now 25 years later, I’m by myself for the first time and my kids are grown and I don’t know what to do with myself most nights.
My hairdresser went on.
And you know, he’s so smart. I mean, I’m not smart. I used to tell him, ‘I wish I could be as smart as you for just one day.’ But he never changed. He’s smart but he’s infuriating.
How sad, I thought. How sad to feel that way about yourself.
And oh the sex, well that went out the window once the kids came along. I mean the stretch marks? They’re everywhere. And my boobs? Like udders.
Yeah, it’s definitely hard to get in the mood after you have babies. We had a rough patch after our first.
I’d never even give a blow job, like those stopped once we got married.
Really? Like, never?
I’m seeing a guy though, for a couple months now. He gives me massages, can you believe it? Massages? I tell him he’s probably just like all the other assholes and he’ll stop the massages too. He tells me he won’t, but we’ll see.
Massages. That’s one thing I really don’t get many of.
I’m telling you though, marriage is not the way to go. Men are just assholes. They’re selfish. They don’t understand what it takes to raise a family.
Not Steve. He gets it. He supports me.
There’s no romance after you put on that ring. There’s nothing fun anymore.
It’s sad, how often that seems to be the case. Granted, we’ve only been married for under three years, and together for 6. But there are kids and long hours at work and homework and, well, life getting in the way of our time together. But we put the time in.
People don’t realize how much work it takes to keep a relationship alive. To keep the passion alive.
And honestly? I think a lot of men get a bum rap. Women are too hard on them. We forget that they want to feel taken care of and cherished just as much as we do.
Steve is the first one to grab a mop on his day off, he’ll help me with things before I ask. He’s also the first one to remind me if life in the boudoir has been a little slow. And he demands respect. He doesn’t take passive-aggressive shit from me, and he doesn’t hand it out.
Conversations like the one I had in the salon the other day make me remember how lucky I am. And oh, you better believe I thanked him for it, too.