How old is too old?
...Or too young?
A friend of mine (who reads this, so fully expect some kind of horrible email or comment arriving due to the post) is currently contemplating dating a younger man.
Having met the fellow, I can vouch for him being a charming (if rather insecure) lad. Yet, for his tender years, he is a person. Aware of himself, his failings and with that sort of endearing optimism that has yet to be tried and tested by life and all its vicious offerings.
She fears -- and I can understand why. Dating someone of the younger persuasion can offer both positive and negative factors. On one hand, they are sorely lacking the painful cynicism and experience that we old'ish (though some may even argue with me on this -- though I maintain, once you hit your 30s, you should have had at least a taste of mature life) have thus enountered. Life experiences tend to make a big difference when one is attracted to someone who is at least a decade younger than ourselves.
On the other hand, you find yourself introduced to someone who is somewhat fresh -- unburdened by years of unfortunate and sometimes debilitating past relationships, history and trials to one's ego. Or the unfortunate reality that indeed, you aren't particularly special and will only contribute to the ant hill.
But having seen April-August relationships at play in the past, there is no precendent. There are always moments where the elder half scoffs lightly and thinks indulgently, "Ah well, we shall see what becomes of you over the next while." Yet there is sometimes a certain solidity in some relationships that comes from the younger half having a perspective of one who is years older.
So when does young become too young? It's hard to say. Some people are born old. Other people (such as myself) are perpetually immature and revel in it.
It seems to become only a problem when lack of life experiences clash with those who have graduated with honours from the School Of Hard Knocks. Or when one half of a relationship becomes far more serious than the other is prepared for -- where the younger is either prepared for vows of eternity... or has suddenly realized that the world holds far more promise than they ever expected, and find themselves unready for the serious relationship they find themselves in.
But these always seem to be a case-by-case situation. I've known full-grown adults who have kept themselves so in check that they live restrained lives. Or younger folks who have the cunning and wisdom to be comfortable in an older peer group.
I've always thought of age as immaterial. Love works for some relationships... and not for others. Age only becomes an issue when you want it to be -- or one is looking to put the other in their place (the age-old cry of "I'm older, therefore I am your superior").
Age is in your head. Some people hit middle age before they're 30. Others hit puberty when they're in their 60s.
It's relative... isn't it?
A friend of mine (who reads this, so fully expect some kind of horrible email or comment arriving due to the post) is currently contemplating dating a younger man.
Having met the fellow, I can vouch for him being a charming (if rather insecure) lad. Yet, for his tender years, he is a person. Aware of himself, his failings and with that sort of endearing optimism that has yet to be tried and tested by life and all its vicious offerings.
She fears -- and I can understand why. Dating someone of the younger persuasion can offer both positive and negative factors. On one hand, they are sorely lacking the painful cynicism and experience that we old'ish (though some may even argue with me on this -- though I maintain, once you hit your 30s, you should have had at least a taste of mature life) have thus enountered. Life experiences tend to make a big difference when one is attracted to someone who is at least a decade younger than ourselves.
On the other hand, you find yourself introduced to someone who is somewhat fresh -- unburdened by years of unfortunate and sometimes debilitating past relationships, history and trials to one's ego. Or the unfortunate reality that indeed, you aren't particularly special and will only contribute to the ant hill.
But having seen April-August relationships at play in the past, there is no precendent. There are always moments where the elder half scoffs lightly and thinks indulgently, "Ah well, we shall see what becomes of you over the next while." Yet there is sometimes a certain solidity in some relationships that comes from the younger half having a perspective of one who is years older.
So when does young become too young? It's hard to say. Some people are born old. Other people (such as myself) are perpetually immature and revel in it.
It seems to become only a problem when lack of life experiences clash with those who have graduated with honours from the School Of Hard Knocks. Or when one half of a relationship becomes far more serious than the other is prepared for -- where the younger is either prepared for vows of eternity... or has suddenly realized that the world holds far more promise than they ever expected, and find themselves unready for the serious relationship they find themselves in.
But these always seem to be a case-by-case situation. I've known full-grown adults who have kept themselves so in check that they live restrained lives. Or younger folks who have the cunning and wisdom to be comfortable in an older peer group.
I've always thought of age as immaterial. Love works for some relationships... and not for others. Age only becomes an issue when you want it to be -- or one is looking to put the other in their place (the age-old cry of "I'm older, therefore I am your superior").
Age is in your head. Some people hit middle age before they're 30. Others hit puberty when they're in their 60s.
It's relative... isn't it?
1 Comments:
Poetry should never be shared.
Especially that which is lustful/ardent in nature.
Unless, of course, you're trying to *drive* some random lovely young man away...
In which case, poem away.
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