Here's the thing about me dating older men. I like it. I like the learnedness, the maturity-- but not the difference of experience and sense of superiority it can tend to bring to the relationship. That, and I am young: young enough and naive enough to still cling to the slowly-wilting belief that when we "grow up," we all become these perfect, balanced beings. We do not; age has only some bearing in the art of becoming centered and realizing our innate wholeness (and I'm a ways away, to put it delicately).
I don't feel quite like I connect with people. Not many people, anyways. And I used to ascribe that to problems with my age-group; I was in such solitude because I just didn't feel a spark during interaction with others my age; I got along better with adults.
I am also fortunate enough to have an unconditionally loving and supportive family (does it blow anyone else's mind that families who hold their children in a position of unconditional positive regard are in the minority?)-- and that, unfortunately, is still an issue for most people my age-- not to mention members of earlier generations.
But being stuck in the middle isn't quite so bad; with all that space between oneself and others, one doesn't so much shrivel as he blossoms, grows into the spaces between-- spaces which no one else can reach or even dream of.
Still, it's lonely here in the spaces between.
Friday, September 2, 2011
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment