In response to another blogger’s post about being annoyed when she’s messaged on dating sites by old men on their second wives with a bunch of kids (I won’t call her out here, but she’s welcome to post :) ), I decided to write a character study into the mind of such a guy. It turned out fun, so I thought I’d post it here as well.
It’s hard not to feel for them though, isn’t it? Some poor schlub out there, aging but he doesn’t feel it. He wears it, sure, those thirty plus years since he was 18, but damned, he doesn’t feel it! Why, he still feels just the way he did when he was 18. Wiser, maybe, a damned sight better at judging, so he thinks. He could probably even go back out and play ball again, I mean, after a little cardio, a month or two to get in shape. He thinks back to his first wife, the one you look so much like, and when they were kids and young and horny and free. And he thinks forward to his second, and their raft of kids and bills and illnesses and all the tiny stresses that being a grownup brings, that nibble away at your soul, your libido, your life like a billion scrabbling ants. Smack one and two more take its place, all of them more pissed off for the effort. The weight of it gnaws at him and he just can’t fucking take it anymore, not when he sees you, so young and pretty and just like his first wife, when they fell in love, before they got broken and she ran off with the younger version of him. And a part of him, a tiny part of him, whispers in his ear and tells him that hey, he won “you” before, he could do it again. Because it’s what’s inside that counts, right? Sure, he’s at least twenty years past your age range, but he’s young at heart, and those younger guys, they’re just going to treat you like shit anyway. After all, he did that to her when he was younger, right? But he knows better now. He knows how to treat you, to respect you, to admire you. So he might as well write you. He knows what’s best. If only you could look past the thirty plus years, the sagging belly, the wrinkles.