THE TROUBLE OF OVER FORTIES IN LOVE: EPISODE 1.
   There is time for everything they say and if time runs out, it is hard, it could not be possible to turn back the time. Sometimes when you get very concerned and critical you miss the real thing. All around me was mistreatment, distrust and breaking up of marriages. Everyone had had hard times from lack of command over their economy. I have decided to get a good control over the size of my pocket in the hope every other thing would fall in to place, but I was wrong. At this point everyone seemed to want me. The women who were over thirties I knew were all now happily married yet they still wanted me.. The few ones who were still single were more burdens than I could bear. To my mind, I made sense of the wise saying, ‘once beaten twice shy.’ At over forty years of age I did not think it was a good thing to start love afresh so I had decided to find a divorcee, thinking she would be in a better frame of mind conceptually to make the marriage work. I was wrong. Sad to say, a divorce would always divorce again and again no matter how many times he or she marries. The underlying factor was he or she was not a good player in the former episode, therefore, the divorce. You do not need to divorce three or four times to understand the rubrics of marriage.
I met Tasha at a fund raising gala. She was twenty-two. She was beautiful and appealed to me so I struck a conversation. I was direct to the point. She was frank. “I have had three failed marriages, therefore, I am really scared to contract any,” she said. I smiled and laid my cards on the table. “Whatever breaks your marriage I may not know but I shall accept you as you are.” I assured her. I was wrong again. I did not have the stomach to accept Tasha as she was. The fact was Tasha cannot simply be married. I regretted from day one Tasha moved in. We saw things from different perspectives, as such we quarrelled over everything. She had held on tight to her wrong ideas that were breaking her marriage as the gospel truth. There was no way I was going to get through to her as she had refused to accept and learn anything new at all. My fear was not breaking up but for my record being established as a divorcee and the over forty number plate. The quarrels have become routine and the norm rather than the exception.
I was not sure I was in love as my heart ache everyday. Attempts to put things right made them worse. I became lonelier than I was before I got married to Tasha. All the money I made did not make any difference as money could not buy me love. To some extend, the more money I made the more problems I had, not only from Tasha but from everyone around me.
We disagreed on everything. Sometimes I blamed it on our age difference. In this instance too I was wrong. My mother did not need grow to be hundred to learn to be a good wife and to make her marriage work, so why not Tasha. I was concerned about tangible things and a consolidated future. Tasha just wanted to show off her ego. She just wanted to jet to Paris, on  to Rome through London to Las Vegas and back to New York, if time would allow it all in a day. She did not care who did the cooking, cleaning, most importantly the domestic chores. She claimed I was trying to cage her like a bird to take care of my needs. I could not explain to her what the objectives of marriage were. She would not even listen in. To some extend, I was scared of her. Twice I threatened to get rid of her, thrice she came home with her young companions. I was at loosing end so I ceased –fire to avoid any predicament. We could not continue like that because the domestic arrangements were making me miserable. She expected me to make more money so she could spend it but she was not willing to augment the services that brought in the money.
This morning she ordered me to bring her a cup of tea while she was still in bed. We went in to our usual argument. I could not help it so I chased her out with lawn tennis bat. The court took away half my possession. Funnily, I was so happy to loose half my wealth rather than living with ‘Tash,’ as I fondly call her, one more day under my roof Which was not there.. The court gave her the house I built with my money.