On immature arousal.

When I met my wife, I was aroused by her luscious hair, shapely legs, and amazing eyes. When I dated her, I was aroused by her sense of humor, brilliant mind, and solid character. But the truth is that many women have all of these things, perhaps even better versions of them. And if my interest in my wife depended on that stuff, it would be a fragile thing indeed. So after 13 years of marriage, they aren’t really why my wife arouses me anymore.

My wife arouses me now because she gave life to my sons, because she made my family debt free, because she held me as I cried when my mother died, because she threw me a surprise party for my 40th birthday, because she watched Tron Legacy with me, because she made me visit my grandmother regularly, and ten thousand other, similar things.

In short, many women can offer me what attracted me to my wife in the beginning, but there isn’t any woman who can offer me everything my wife has meant to me since then. And only a fool would find such insignificant things as legs and laughter more arousing than that.

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