She Wants Me

Delusion

“She wants me,” I said to my friend after a woman 20 years younger than me seemed to be enjoying my sense of humor.

“She wants you about as much as she wants a chicken liver sandwich,” my friend said while snort giggling.

“No. I think she might actually want me,” I protest.

“Let’s be scientific for a moment,” my friend takes a deep breath and continues, “She’s a 35-year-old beauty. You’re a 55-year-old, short, balding, froggy-looking man. You’d think she’d choose an amphibian closer to her own age.”

“I’ve got wisdom and experience and maturity,” I reason.

“You haven’t had sex since Clinton didn’t have sex with Monica Lewinsky. What kind of moves do you think you can bring to the table? You can’t even spread your legs.”

Confrontation

“Let me help you out,” my friend approaches the woman. “Excuse me. Sorry to bother you but my friend here, yes, the one who actually witnessed the moon landing in real-time on his parent’s 12-inch black and white television in 1969, thinks you may have a sexual interest in him. Do you?”

The woman smirked, giggled, and said, “What made you think that?”

“Oh I don’t think anything, he thinks because you laughed at his jokes, that means you want to get naked with him and engage in wild, unbridled lovemaking.”

“Please don’t listen to my friend,” I interject. “He out of his mind.”

“Do you think I want you sexually?” she asked me with a straight face.

“No…..I mean I don’t know….do you?” I stammered.

“No I don’t,” she softly said with a hint of pity.

“Thank you for your honesty,” I whispered.

“Why would you want to have sex with me?” she asked, reasonably.

“I think it’s probably just fantasy and self-delusion. I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to be sorry, I am honestly curious, why not have a fantasy with a woman your own age?”

Confession

I expected my mouth to answer her reasonable question with, “I fantasize all the time about women my age,” but instead awkwardly protested, “You know, I dated a woman your age…and she wanted me.”

At this point, my friend grabbed my arm to escort me away before I started sounding more foolish than I already did.

“No. The young girl said,” this is getting interesting. “Let’s talk.”

“Look, I’m sorry. Maybe I got spoiled or couldn’t process the one girl in a million who genuinely found me attractive and desirable.”

Schooling of the late middle-aged guy

This girl was genuinely intrigued with why I thought she’d be interested in a man 20 years her senior and we analyzed it for almost an hour.

We agreed upon a few facts:

1. For many men and women, someone older with maturity, money, patience, and appreciation is intoxicating — emotionally, psychologically, and, occasionally, sexually.
2. Relationships of any age, where one person takes on the role of provider, protector, and advisor doesn’t usually last — and a large age difference can exacerbate the differences.
3. All relationships start out explosively and transition and into deeper, less volatile, more pragmatic partnerships.
4. The rose coming off the bloom is one thing when two people share common interests with shared generational references, goals, and desires, but is something completely different when one has already raised a family into adulthood and the other is just getting started on the first one.

She was stuck on the attraction dilemma

After asking me ten different ways why a man in his mid-fifties would be attracted to a woman 20 years younger, I asked her if she, at 35, sometimes finds a 21-year-old man attractive.

She said yes, but would never date someone that much younger than her. She went on to explain they wouldn’t have much in common, people would find it wrong, and as they age there could come a time when they would naturally grow apart.

I told her we’re not that different but she insisted she can differentiate between carnal attraction and something deeper and wondered whether I could.

The lesson

I’m still hopelessly romantic enough to believe there are exceptions to every rule when it comes to love, romance, and long-term relationships.

Though I am convinced once you’ve embarked on an impossible, yet desperately desired relationship, part of your psyche is permanently rewired.

Rationally, I know I was fortunate to have a meaningful, powerful, earth-shattering, relationship with someone almost two decades my junior. And I went into it with my eyes wide open, but, trust me, there is a neurological rewiring.

For several years, I was convinced I was part of something bigger than age — that love would triumph over everything.

I still believe true, deep, to-the-marrow, love does indeed transcend all reason and rational thought. But love has to feel comfortable and equitable — or the age, emotional, physical, or financial differences will take their toll.

I thanked this young lady for the conversation and analysis and she smiled at me — then asked if I still thought she wanted me.

I said no.

She looked me directly in the eye and said she enjoyed the conversation — then stood up and walked away.

As I sat alone, I had an epiphany. I know what I’m looking for. I’m looking for someone who can call me on a landline — preferably on a rotary dial.

I was getting turned on imagining the good old days of Wacky Packs, pet rocks, disco, macrame, Evil Knievel, and three-row station wagons — you know, the ones where the last row was facing backward so it felt like a roller coaster and you never knew if an approaching car was going to stop on time.

Who wants me? Who knows? But should I be lucky enough to take another plunge, I’m young enough to still rock someone’s world and old enough to know who I am — a man who hasn’t left the house without a belt in 45 years.

A late-middle-aged man who has loved before….and will love again.

A man who knows sometimes a smile is just a smile.

And sometimes a smile is the beginning of the best years of your life.

I’m still smiling.

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Previously Published on medium

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