A new girlfriend of a former co-worker dropped by. This was her introduction, explicitly stated, not implied. She had a lip piercing, spoke with a rising inflection, and it seemed she was dressed in pajamas.
She may not have fit the occasion, but she certainly appeared at ease.
Honestly, she didn’t capture much of my attention. The former co-worker seemed genuinely happy. Having just crossed into his thirties, he looked like he’d reclaimed a good five years of his youth. It appears that a hallmark of rebound relationships for men is to choose someone who is significantly younger and often socially awkward.
Reflecting on my own circumstances, the last thing I desire is a guy in his early twenties. When I think back to the guys I dated at that age, I remember being less than impressed; what would be different now? Was the sex exceptional? Not really… riveting discussions? Only when they were sober, which was rare.
For a woman, there doesn’t seem to be any advantage to dating a younger man. The quality of sex now far surpasses what it used to be. I’m not in the business of bringing anyone home. I’m done with diving into testosterone-fueled bar brawls. So why do I feel uneasy?
I will never revert to that version of myself. I find myself stuck in a gray area between what I desire and what’s within reach.
Time to hit the gym and clear my mind a bit. I once told a friend that I’d let the attractive women have the spotlight. Beauty has never been my objective. I strive for sanity and, hopefully, to avoid doing any damage with a blunt object.
by Susan Floyd