Lately, there have been a bunch of men I have dated in their mid to late 50s.
It all began with Clint.
Thinking that a friend was trying to set me up with the YOUNGER man standing NEXT TO THE OLDER MAN, I agreed to a date.
Not wanting to be ageist, I went through with the date even though I thought he was way too old for me. I was 33, he was 59.
It didn’t work out, for obvious reasons and the less than obvious reasons that he was a raging alcoholic and hoovered my lips off when he kissed me.
Since Clint, there have been numerous older men in my life.
I think I get a kick out of introducing my birthparents to my boyfriend when he is as old or older than them.
I’m just rebellious that way.
But The Pirate is more my age – in his early 40s. Which makes him entirely suitable for me.
And perhaps able to keep up with me a little better than some of the past men in my life.
My cousin Jennifer insisted I send her a picture of him.
So I did.
She couldn’t help but remark that he was a little more age appropriate for me.
Yeah, more age appropriate and quite dreamy.
I’m not sure his age matters when there’s a connection like ours. But I’m certainly appreciative of his youth and vitality.
I only wish I met him sooner.