Noun: The length of time that a person has lived or a thing has existed.
It’s just a number, right?
Sadly I do not agree. I have this obsessive complex with age. Not mine. Although, as I approach thirty I sometimes get a sickening feeling in my stomach; I guess I am not so bothered considering I don’t really look (or act) my age. Lately, however, I can’t help but think that maybe looking youthful isn’t so much a blessing. Of course I don’t REALLY mean that, and I truly hope I didn’t go and jinx myself. Watch me wake up with crow’s feet...
The problem is (and yes I actually think it is a problem) that the males who approach me are much too young. Now, perhaps this is where we can first embrace my previously mentioned OCD. I am obsessed with age. I will not even consider the male in front of me as a possible contender for my future if he is not at least my age or older. This causes many issues. Especially when the male in front of you thinks you are twenty-three.
I’m not sure where or when, or why for that matter, I inherited this ideal. I assume it is because I remember what my mentality and wants were when I was younger and I don’t want to be wasting my time with someone who just wants to have fun. EW, when did I become so serious?! In my own defense, I never believed in relationships unless a future was seen together. Precisely why I have only been in one serious relationship...and yes, once upon a time I actually saw a future with him.
My soul sister recently told me that she is going to start agreeing every time someone thinks she is twenty-three; and that I should do the same. I can’t help but imagine the things I would do differently if I were in fact still twenty-three...