Wednesday, March 11, 2009

Mercenary Love

I met Roy in a gym. It was appropriate... we were both young, and beautiful... and arrogant as only the young and beautiful can be. We worshiped at the temple of our bodies and recognized each other as a like spirit. It was enough to form the foundation of a relationship on.

The physical attraction was strong, and the sex was mind-blowing; perhaps the best I've ever had. We were both competitive, adventurous and outdoorsy, so found common ground outside the bedroom by mountain-biking around Salt Spring Island, weekend hiking trips into the interior of BC, and rock climbing.

We both loved country music and camped out over a long weekend to attend the Merritt Mountain Music Festival; a crazed four days of sun, mescal, oranges, sex and country music. (I walked out of the final concert one evening, thinking the band sucked, was more rock than country and would never go anywhere. Who the hell were these Blue Rodeo people, anyhow?)

Somehow, despite the shared interests and physical passion, Roy and I just never clicked emotionally. We both really wanted it to work, and stayed together long after we should have called it quits... just waiting for that spark. It never came, and we both realized the inevitable after a while. It wasn't a heartbreaker, but it was disappointing.

Before we parted ways, we made a pact. In the event that we reached 30 and were not otherwise engaged, we would marry. Both of us, vain as we were, felt the ticking of the time bomb that was age, and knew our assets were rapidly depreciating. If there was no better offer on the table, we would take the 75% solution and make it work.

As it turned out, I was married at 30, though hubby # 1 was no bargain... he wasn't even a 10% solution, but that's a story for another post. I changed careers, changed cities, changed names, and never saw Roy again. (I just googled him and found a few references to cross-country racing and the Grouse Grind... so he's still up to old tricks.)

It strikes me now how mercenary we were about it. We knew that we had the basis of a pretty good relationship, but we both wanted to see if we could trade up. There's always something better just around the corner, isn't there?

Are we ever really satisfied, or are we perpetually doomed to wonder what's behind door # 2?

PS... Hubby # 2 is a 99% solution, but I have to take his daughters into consideration.. that's -10% each... so he clocks in at 79% right now. In five years, when his daughters are out of the house (pleasegodplease)... his stock will soar.


Aline la Bergère said...

What a spicy read for a rather dull day of housework. Glad to know I am not the only one with a past, a present and hopefully a future. heh heh (when the rug rats get out)

Miri said...

Oh my, yes, what a joyous day when I no longer had to see his *other* kids ever again nor lose another chunk of our household income to that pit of despair.

XUP said...

I think we all have one of those "if we're not married by the time we're 30" relationships. I don't know that it's particularly mercenary, though. In my case it was just someone I was really fond of and we got along very well together, great sex, but no "love". We'd have ended up as roomates who occasionally sleep together. Neither of us ended up getting married and we're way past 30 now.

raino said...

since meeting you at the breakfast i have to say that you seem far too young to have been through all that.