Have you ever met someone you really liked and they weren’t interested? Of course you have, we all have. What I mean is more like this: When I was in my early twenties and would meet someone in his older twenties or early thirties, the reason they weren’t interested was because of my age. This perplexed me for years. I mean, old men are paying for young girls. Doesn’t someone of an older age want the youth of another?
It turns out, no.
Only recently did this begin to make sense. Not feeling old, but clearly being older than a large chunk of the millenials who are beginning to clog the bars and coffee shops, it makes sense. When a twenty-year old asks if you want to hangout there’s this initial impulse of, “God, no!” It’s not just because it looks like the first hairs on the kid’s chin have barely appeared, it’s because of the gap in life experience.
Physically I’m the same person I was ten years ago. As far as flesh and bone goes. Mentally it feels like the others in my head and I have gone through a multitude of lifetimes together. I’m full of useless knowledge that is learned along the way and can in no way be properly expressed to someone younger in words. But, when you turn down one of the younger individuals, they’ll still ask, “why?” If you tell them it’s because of their age they will affirm their maturity and how blah, blah, blah they are, but it won’t matter and they won’t understand.
The interesting twist here is that when someone five ore more years older now tells me I’m “too young” there is no argument from me. They’re probably right. I have no idea what’s going to transpire over the next decade or how that’s going to change me. Just something to think about.