The scene–a small village in rural America. The year–1850.
There is a 15 year old girl with two children by her side. They are hers. She is five months pregnant with a third. She got pregnant at 14. At 15 again. Now, just two months shy of her 16th birthday there stirs another inside of her.
There is a 20 year old man, the father of those two. He works long hours at a physically demanding job to provide for his young wife and small children. He is often physically exhausted, but happy to provide. He looks at his wife and kids–the juice is worth the squeeze.
The scene–a nightclub in America. The year-2016.
There is a 35 year old woman with approximately three pounds of makeup plastered on to her face. She’s dancing to Beyonce’s hit, Single Ladies, along with her other friends aged 34 and 37 years old. None of them have children. None of them have any regrets. They have enjoyed their life of parties–full of men throwing money and drinks at them in an attempt to win them over.
Across the club is a 37 year old man. He’s out of shape and fat, because he works long hours sitting behind a desk. He’s sipping a rum and Coke, out of a straw–of course. He looks at the layers of foundational makeup painted on the 35 year old’s faltering skin and think…well, how much worse can it get?
Eventually, that 35 year old will decide that it’s time to settle.
The difference is that she will never have the same spark. The lust. The divineness. You can argue to hell and back whether it’s notch count that destroys pair bonding ability or not, but I have a different, and difficult, theory.
Simply put, as you age you don’t feel teenage love.
See how simple that was?
Think back to your first crush, or first relationship. It’s literally crushing–akin to having a gigantic fucking boulder on top of your head that prevents you from thinking about anyone but that person. As the years go on, the ability to have this kind of infatuation simply lessons. And it’s even more accelerated by taking dozens and dozens of cocks in various holes throughout the years.
And men, don’t think you’re off the hook either. Sticking your dick in tons of holes will reduce your ability to have that teenage-like infatuation. And that’s a good thing, because it’s up to the men to think logically in a relationship. To not do something stupid like move in together after a month, or have babies after a year.
But you’ll never have that teenage crush again.
Part of me is saddened by that, part of me relieved. I’m sad because I know how high that high was. I’m relieved because I know I can never truly be as stupid as I was when I first entered the dating scene.
The question is how you can balance this in terms of a long term partnership.
For women, the choice seems simple.
Women often base their decisions on emotions. Marriage is a “feel-good” institution. Most women prefer not to think of marriage as a sort of transaction, despite it’s transactional nature. Men, on the other hand, seem to have an understanding of the transactional nature of relationships. Perhaps they don’t voice them in the public sphere, but most of us deep down realize that you pay for it in one way or another.
So since women are going to make the emotional choice anyway, she might as well do it while she’s young and can feel the strongest crush.
Since it’s up to the man to be logical, it makes sense for him to prolong these kind of choices slightly longer. But it’s a fine line between waiting too long and waiting too little.
The lesson is this: get them while they’re young.