… if I ever go looking for my heart’s desire again, I won’t look any further than my own backyard; because if it isn’t there, I never really lost it to begin with. Dorothy Gale, Wizard of Oz
Her hair is graying – it reminds you of a November morning’s clouds. Why doesn’t she color it? A little Botox would take care of those wretched crevices around her mouth and the corners of her eyes. And – mother of all beastly grotesque horrors – that twenty pounds she’s put on over the years would disappear if she’d just take her fat ass to the gym. You’re a man; a man has needs. If she’d just made a little effort, you wouldn’t have had to meet them elsewhere.
Did you ever notice how that silver tinsel in her hair caught the sunlight and sparkled back at you? Do you remember how she laughed and laughed – and laughed – at your jokes? Even when you both knew you weren’t really that funny, the melody with which she rewarded you – accompanied, of course, by those little wrinkles – always tempted you to grunt and beat your chest. Despite her many other obligations each day, she managed to spend hours in the kitchen preparing a magic show for your tongue and, yes, she sat down and enjoyed it with you. As a result there’s now so much more of her – uh, twenty pounds — to love.
Poor thing. You didn’t see the mature beauty that was your garden. You didn’t enjoy the heady fragrance that surrounded you each day. Tending your own roses was so much work; why bother when younger buds were practically falling at your feet? How were you to know that they’d never bloom – that they wouldn’t give you that which you already had in abundance yet failed to appreciate? I’m so sad for you.
But I’m ecstatic that she kicked your ass to the curb and found someone who’s loving what you lost.
Neener. Neener. Neener.