I am one of those women who got married late. Unfortunately, even my late relationship came to an end. Everyone called me a “crammer,” and I really loved to study. I graduated with a master’s degree and became a librarian. A friend introduced me to my future husband. He was 59 years old, but he did not despair and was looking for a wife. I was nine years younger. Mark immediately sank into my soul. He is a well-mannered, educated man who is interested in poetry and literature. We started talking, and a few months later he asked me to marry him.
I agreed, I had long wanted a family life. After the wedding, we started living at my place because his daughter and her family lived in his house. To be honest, I didn’t even know what was waiting for me. I had always lived alone, but now a lot had changed, and I was annoyed. The stain on the tablecloth, the crumpled bedspread, the scattered socks and many interesting things that were not part of my plans… Literally everything annoyed me. It was as if he was in a sanatorium, and I had all the responsibilities. He also had problems with money. I lost my patience when Mark, instead of fixing the faucet, broke it even more and only then called a repairman.
That day I realized that I didn’t want to be patient and suffer, because we are adults and have different habits. Soon after, we had a conversation; as it turned out, he was satisfied with everything and always lived on the ready-made. I’m a calm person, I don’t like scandals. However, we could not reach a peaceful resolution: Mark’s daughter had already planned her life in her father’s apartment, thinking that he would always live with me. And soon they would get my apartment. It took three months for my husband to agree to the divorce. He demanded that I return the gifts. It didn’t cost me anything to return a trash can and a cheap chain. This story made me wonder if it is possible to build a happy family life after 50 years.
