|When you've officially run out of shit to talk about.|
I hear some women say, "We just need to get away from everything, from the house and the kids and work and just reconnect with each other."
Reconnect? You weren't all that connected in the first place.
I hate weddings (the food tastes better at funerals) but I've been obligated to attend a few. Past the bride's mother's outfit and the groom singing his vows, the thing that makes me giggle the most is watching older couples who were probably punching each other in the car interlace fingers and lean against one another with tears in their eyes. I assume they're experiencing some sense of nostalgia watching these young folks get hitched, remembering why they got married.
Or trying to remember.
Most people really don't have all that much in common. Once the rush of hormones and adrenaline wear off, what you're left with is a person you probably aren't compatible with. You can go on some expensive-ass cruise-- where Montezuma's revenge awaits-- and you might even have some above-average sex in your tiny-ass cabin, but when you return to the real world you'll immediately be reminded that you're still married to a stranger.
This is especially true for men. Old men will tell me about how they married the first girl who paid them any attention (basically the first girl who let them fuck). This sudden boon of in-house pussy caused them to overlook all the obvious conflicts; they were so happy to be getting the milk that they bought the cow!