So, the other night I was left alone with a beautiful woman for about 5 minutes. We weren’t really alone, we were surrounded by dozens of people and tons of “uhntiss.” Somehow we ended up splashing around in the deep end anyway.
I would like to apologize to her and to everyone else in my life for bringing up age so often and in so many mixed ways. She’s a baby in the way that all dogs are puppies to me. She turns twenty one in a few weeks and can’t imagine life getting any better after that. “After this one, what is there to look forward to?” Conversation meandered like James Bond taking hairpin turns while being chased by the Millennium Falcon. It was great and wonderful, no matter how short lived it was.
Somewhere in that conversation I mentioned how old I was. It was wonderful how thoroughly unimpressed she was. But I didn’t mean it like I was dead and developing Alzheimer’s, anyway. I meant it in the way that meant I am looking forward to cook a good meal at home and have some friends over instead of running around town finding the best beats. Besides, if I need the best beats I can just ask her boyfriend who seems to have the pulse of the scene flowing through him. I meant it in the way that I take pleasure in pouring over these words and the words of authors who have come before. I meant that I will probably never have a night that makes the top 100 most drunken nights of my life again.
I will apparently have some wild nights. I will still make stupid decisions and go out and come home hours, sometimes minutes, before work. However, it will never be like it was when I was her age. I remember the summer before I turned 21. I remember my 21st birthday. Those nights will never come again. I don’t want them to. I don’t regret them. They are just over and I am over them.
Up until two years ago, I didn’t look forward; I looked back to those nights. Then I looked down at my feet to figure out where I was and didn’t meet anyone’s gaze for a long time. Then one sentence hit me like an arrow and I noticed someone. And now I look forward.
That’s the answer to the question. What is there to look forward to after this one? The same as before, just more of it. I don’t know what I look forward to, I just look forward. I make each day better than the last. Or at least I try to. And if I fail I figure out why and adjust fire. I don’t look forward to meeting the love of my life. I look forward, and I think I see her coming. I don’t look forward to grey hairs, but they peak at me from the mirror.
I am looking forward to driving 1,133 miles to have dinner with a woman I haven’t seen in 15 years. I am looking forward to having lunch with a coworker on the way who I haven’t seen in 6&1/2 years. I am looking forward to having some cheap beer with a man I’ve known for 33 years and haven’t seen in 5. I am looking forward to many things.
I am looking forward to getting my teeth cleaned. And doing dishes and cleaning my house up. I am looking forward to just about everything.
So is she. She just seems to think it ends, that things stop getting better. I have a feeling she’ll understand really soon. She’s a pretty smart cookie, I think. I may have only spent a few minutes with her, but I’d bet there are brains in there… And character to boot.
P.S. Don’t you love misleading, sensationalized titles?