though this–weblog thingy–may sound like the naive shit of a young(er) woman, i can assure you that not only am i older (almost fucking middle-aged) but have been young and felt the angst of of a young woman.

i am not young.

in a way, the raw love and desire and hurt i have for him makes me feel like a kid again… and i am ashamed. folks at my age should not have these desires; should not have this amount of passion. we should feel restrictively. however, it is nice to know that passion doesn’t end. though, i must admit that i am more afraid than ever. if i can still feel so despairingly as i do and did, if i can still love as if Death was looming over my shoulder, love as if i had never felt this before, what will it be like when i am even older? when there will be no-one?

i need someone. i am not young and beautiful. men my age want younger women. even him, who knows better, is seeing someone 8 years younger than i am.

my age is suddenly a fucking curse. i never cared too much about age until recently. never cared until i was alone. now it’s become a constant reminder. the men i find attractive want someone younger. and then there is the opposite. i’ve been propositioned by very young men lately. though they are beautiful and undoubtedly nice fucks, i have no interest. young men are beautiful but i need/want more. and then there are all the “older” men—i.e. over 50. i could screw 20-somethings and 50+ somethings–and yet not one of these men are my “fit”. nor do any of them care about me as a person. both groups see me as a nice fuck and a way to show off.

why the fuck can’t women and men at a certain age want each other.

i keep trying to tell him this. but men are simple.

i am so fucking scared. my desire is so narrow. my ideal man is becoming further and further out of my reality. i can’t settle. can’t do it. yet i am fucking older. i have children. i have nothing to offer.

He was my last chance. and i truly thought we’d be together.