“You’re the first grownup I’ve ever dated.”
I’m pretty sure she meant it as a compliment, but it merely made me feel old, and it made her seem really, really young.
When a woman dates a younger man, she is called a Cougar.
When a man does it, he’s a lecherous, creepy, dirty old man in the midst of a crisis of some sort.
Given that most women mature faster, and develop rational thought, that seems a bit unfair.
Given that I act like a 15-year-old in my thirties only proves a point of compatibility.
I’m sure when she told me that, she meant it as a compliment. I’m sure she meant she’d only dated boys until now—boys with fast food jobs, and a strange obsession with video games.
I had already caught myself starting a sentence with, “When I was your age” far too many times, as I searched for our level of equality.
But at her age, she was merely searching.
When I was her age…I was too.
So why did I expect her to be different?
I didn’t even know how old, or perhaps young, she was until well after it was too late. I didn’t ever even think to ask. When your soul finds something that feels right, age becomes inapropos.
So does a house, a wife, and pretty much everything else.