When you’ve been single for as long as I have, and you’re 39, desperation doesn’t even begin to describe the kind of emotional wilderness you find yourself in.
I’ve been a single bird for as long as I can remember. The last time I was in love and it ended, I kept repeating the chorus, “My tired is tired of loving.” So I locked my heart, threw the keys far into the air, and focused on living life to the fullest.
One evening, I went to a fast food joint to grab supper. The queue was unusually long, and I considered leaving, but I thought to myself, “I’ve been here for a while; let me just wait and see.”
From the corner of my eye, I saw a man step out, complaining about how the line wasn’t moving. For whatever reason, he came to stand beside me and asked how many people were ahead of me. I answered and jokingly said that with the number of people in front, I might as well sleep there. I played my luck and asked if he could buy the food for me. He laughed and said, “They’ll chew me if I do so ooo.” Instead, he asked for my number and promised to call me when they were leaving.
He did call, but a week later. By then, I had moved on with my day and forgotten that someone had even taken my number.
We started talking, and it was nice. He’s so intelligent, and the way he speaks wisdom is out of this world. Being a sapiosexual, I was instantly drawn to him. It was what you’d call “one touch”.
I agreed to visit him. I wasn’t about to waste time playing games because I’m 39, for heaven’s sake. That day, I saw him again and took a good look at his face. That man is fine. You know those dark-skinned men? And that type is usually a turn-on for me.
Then he asked me out, and I didn’t hesitate. I grabbed the opportunity with both hands and legs included because he’s smart and fine too. I wasn’t going to miss out.
But there are two sides to every coin, right? This one has its flip side too. He’s three years younger than I am. He says it’s not a big deal, but it is for me. I’ve never dated someone younger.
Also, I think about him too much. It’s that bad. My days are filled with thoughts of him, and my nights are filled with dreams of him. I feel like a teenager whenever he calls, but he hardly does. And when I call and the line is busy, he never calls back, not once.
I want to ask him questions, like where this is going and what he wants, but I can’t. I don’t want to sound needy, but my clock is ticking. And when we finally had sex, it was a total disaster: “Fine boy, no game. Not with his tongue, not with his moves.” And in the midst of all that, I’m still here, emotionally tied to his shirt.
I’m 39. My time is running out, and this fine boy is inconsistent. He has no proper sezz game, and I don’t know why I’m scared to ask the questions that matter. How do I even describe what I feel for this man?
Aside from all that, did I mention he’s an amazing kisser? He does that so well. He knows how to hold a conversation, and I feel so good when I’m with him. His aura is sweet. He knows who he is, and he walks in it confidently.
So what do I do? What do I do with this feeling? Am I right to be feeling this way for a man I’m older than, or is old age making me behave this way?
