I had hoped it would not have
I married a man fourteen years older then me. I felt safe with him, and he treated with tenderness and love. He loved me and adored me, and put up with a lot of talk from friends, his and mine, about our age difference. But it worked for us. I loved him also as no man was so attentive and loving. Men my age were just jerks. Cute but jerks. I was always more mature then the est of my friends, and this seemed like the perfect match.
I couldn't have asked for a more wonderful man and life. But although we spoke of "what happens when we get older" it didn't seem to matter. I love him, but as the years have done by, nineteen to be exact, we are tending to grow apart. I'm still a young woman, and still want to enjoy life. And he likes to stay home when not working. He hits the couch and reads the paper.
We don't stay up late together anymore. And usually doesn't want to go shopping, or go and do things. But I am still young. I love him, but now what? He is slowing down and I am full of life. I guess only time will tell. I don't regret my decision but I never thought I would be thinking these thoughts. I guess it was my youth
that didn't make me really question this decision. They say love is blind. I guess so.