Not a picture, but about a year after we broke up, I ran across my first BF in a gay bar. My gay "mentor" pointed him out to me, because I would never have recognized him otherwise.
He had aged at least 10 years. And I selfishly thought to myself "Thank God I'm not still with him! He's an old man!" (He was late 50s, me 48 ) I felt both sorry for him, and guilty about myself, that I was happy I had dodged that bullet. I'm not a very good person.