Counter Top Model

There comes a point where the romantic fantasies which often fuel the doomed liaisons we make — crash mightily on the shore of wtaf.

I feel a sense of sadness and loss as I recognize how men seek out women — unconsciously, many times — to take up the burdensome slack; to perform the unpleasant chores which frees them up to do exactly what they prefer with their time and energies; to be a “helpmate” and “team member”. The translation in real-time can mean a sinking heart of despair.

For no matter how wonderful a woman is, how talented, how accomplished, how brilliant in day-to-day endeavors —if you are that woman, there is a point at which you realize that you are valued much as the top-of-the-line microwave might be in a beautifully-appointed kitchen.

For only the most loyal and dedicated “owner” will have that appliance repaired when it is far easier to just find another comparable model to provide goods and services.

When that time comes in your evolving recognition of how they think and feel and process our presence in their lives — your eyes will burn in indignation at what was not really a betrayal of us in THEIR minds — for this is their reality. It’s just how things are, how they are hardwired to live their lives. We either keep up, or we fall behind and fade quickly in their memories. For we are replaceable so quickly.

It will not be exactly the same, of course, and they know that but they are cool with it, because the next model will be “something new” for them. It is this novelty - then the ongoing convenience of depending on the relative reliability of smoothing their way in the life you imagine you are sharing with them — that calls the tune. -J