Mid Life

I am old once again.

It is a reflection when seeing myself in a certain light.

At the regular spot in my coffee house, ass sore from writing for so many hours, a woman from college walked in the door. She had once told me, in no uncertain terms, that she wanted to fuck me, one night over the phone. The little dance and suggestions were not a flirtatious friendship anymore. She wanted to take that next step, tonight, and now would be the preference.

The problem was that I did not have a working car. She was drunk and a good 30 minute drive away. And my loyal brotherhood of Delt's found it much more fun to taunt me rather than loan me a car or give me a ride.

I am going to assume that this is her husband avoiding my eye contact as I glance up from the laptop. I will assume it is their son who just looked at me as well, not knowing who I am beyond that odd man writing in the corner.

The woman they just enter with walked up to my table boldly and picked up the newly added centerpiece, explaining she admired this one over the dozens of others on each table in the room. "I'm sure they would sell it to you if you asked," was my reply with a small laugh.

She is still attractive. I might say more so today than I remember, but memory is funny that way. She was kind and smart when I knew her. She was interesting and interested. Seeing what I assume is her son and husband, I have to admit that a life with her might have been great. They look happy together. I regret not keeping in touch with her after that night. She may have been embarrassed or mad at my lack of pursuit.

Now I am old. Tall dark and handsome men were chosen over me, short fat and ugly, many times over by any woman I have had the most remote interest in during my life. I like to think that my choices have helped humanity in genetic improvements not having dragged the rest of the pool down with me.

Her hair, still blonde and curly, smile always a delight. Yes, I am an old man with a good memory.

A group of friends are turning 40 this year. Planning something significant and memorable, I think back nearly a decade when celebrating the same. Weeks pass, slip into months, and now a decade of what has been accomplished and still yet to come.

I should visit my father again soon. In the retirement community where he winters, I feel young and childlike years away from joining them.

This is mid-life. A balancing act staying positive about the choices made and confidence that the ones ahead will be right.

Paul PetersComment