‘New Lover’ on Agelessness – A Response to Nana Darkoa

( This is in response to Nana Darkoa ‘s previous post)

I appreciate your honesty. I really do.

Today, I was thinking about agelessness. About midday. You must have been above the clouds at the time.

But my thoughts are not pragmatic. I exist in a place where there are no relatives, no society, just I. And possibilities. Some call me an idealist. Others call my existence escapist. But it is beautiful there.

In that space, you and I are just human beings. I feel young at times. Old at times. I have never felt 27. 26. 25. 24. 23. 22. 21. 20. I do not know what it means to feel a certain age. I think things I am told are childish, at times. Things like why can’t a small hole in the ground swallow someone when they are feeling embarrassed. And I once (I was already older than 25) tried to literally ‘smallen’ myself to fit into a termite hole. It made sense that it should swallow me. I had told an embarrassing lie and had been discovered. It was what others called a serious situation, but I was busy trying to fit myself in a hole. It wasn’t funny. It made sense only to me, I guess. I could not tell anyone what the dramatics I was engaging in meant, or where they were headed.

I have also been told that I have a mind of someone too old. I do not know what age means at some level. What old thoughts are. What young thoughts are.

I have dated younger than me, and older than me before. Dated more older than me than younger than me, but for the first time in my short life, I feel that there is someone who is ageless that I am attracted to. I have read your posts about age and cougar life before. But I do not feel like I can’t be young or old with you. I feel I can be. I do not know how to be young or old. But we do not live in this space where agelessness thrives. We exist in a real world.

It makes me sad that reality wins all the time. That agelessness is a loss. It saddens me that my metaphysical world never wins. That it stays in my head. That I never manage to sell it to others. That I never win the battle for its acceptance.

What am I saying? Loss seems the fact. Loss is a sad thing. A sad being. It must regret its own existence.

Africans kissing

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