I didn’t live up to the Horatio Hornblower ideal of a husband. Sandi was my Maria, and she did love me; but she wasn’t fooled — she knew i only loved her as much as i could.

Maybe real wives don’t expect too much from their husbands; maybe they’re realistic about it, and are just glad if their husbands make a reasonable effort (and don’t fuck things up too badly).

Maybe that’s why Sandi and i were a good match; we were realistic. She was patient with my doubts, we loved each other as best we could, and i was there for her when her health really went to shit. Sandi was already grown up when we met; but in some ways, i was still just a kid.

Youth, however you end up characterizing it (and it will change as you age) doesn’t last long. Middle age is the long one. By the time you realize (and accept) that you’re old, you’ll almost be dead.