"It's like he's being difficult on purpose," the masseuse said while applying a few squirts of oil into her palm. "We used to get along so well, but now we fight about everything. It seems like we are growing farther apart each day."
Now there is a time and a place for everything, and at the moment, it was my time to relax. But never being one to resist a damsel in distress, or the money attached to her, I allowed the intrusion.
"How long have you been together?" I asked.
"Two years."
I leaned up on my elbows and looked her dead in the eyes. "You are one year past your expiration date."
"One year past my what? It takes time to really get to know a person."
"It sure does, and your time has expired." My response obviously caught her attention because she stopped rubbing my calve mid-stroke.
"Explain." she said.
"Well, all things perishable have an expiration date. Humans are perishable, why wouldn't that apply to us? The 'it takes a lot of time' excuse only applies to people who still want to keep their options open. When a man knows who he is and what he wants, he will know within three months if you are marriage material. Within six months he will have shut all other options down, and could very well exchange vows and put a ring on it within a year. Anything much longer than that usually means he is exercising other interests."
"So you're saying he's looking to replace me?"
"If the right player comes along, yes."
Judging by the way she snatched up her cell phone and stormed out of the room cursing, I assumed this massage session was over. Well, at least I got forty-five minutes for free.
Truth for the day: If the fighting is steadily increasing, your relationship is on life support.
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