When I was younger I would have jumped to lots of conclusions. Does he like me? Is he seeing someone else? Have I done or said something wrong? Now I don’t worry at all. I accept his occasional company as simply being wonderful. The icing on the cake with a cherry on the top!
I make sure that I do things that I like with my time and refuse to get pressured into doing things that I don’t. My overall happiness isn’t dependent on seeing him or anyone. My happiness and contentment is of my own making.
I admit that I’ve dabbled in online dating a couple of times but it’s like seeing a fabulous silk scarf in a shop window only to find that it’s cheap nasty polyester once up close. My ill-fated dates have ranged from a man with no teeth to a man describing himself as, ‘the one wearing buff trousers and a matching shirt’. Buff? Really?
Nowadays I can spend hours and hours in my garden plotting and planning and then doing nothing. I can watch romantic comedies. I can read chick-lit and eat porridge at midnight. I can dance around the kitchen with manic abandon safe in the knowledge that nobody can see me.
Believe me when I say that I’m not a lady that lunches or a yummy mummy. I’m just your average aging girl next door juggling to make ends meet. However, when I think about it objectively I’m far more than that. I have my own house that I have nearly paid for, I work full time, I dress well and I’m intelligent and articulate, I’ve got a gently warped sense of humour, I’m fairly slim, fairly attractive in a slightly faded way (blue-eyed, silvery blonde) and I’m generally described as being ‘nice’.
I’m not lonely, needy or clingy and I like my own company. I don’t ask questions that I don’t want to know the answer to. He’s told me a lot about himself, his hopes and dreams, which I respect. I know there’s no future but I will always have memories of the past. I honestly wouldn’t ever jeopardise my lifestyle for a man at my age.
He’s been like that magical moment when a rainbow appears in a grey sky or the first flurry of snowflakes when I was a child. Knowing him has added a bit of glitter and sparkle but without him my life is still ticking over just fine. He is simply a fabulous bonus.
Sometimes I wonder how he would describe his relationship with me. Would he describe me as his guilty secret or as a special friend? Should I describe myself as a cougar or just someone that was in the right place at the right time when the electricity crackled and the silk scarf turned out to be real silk.
See previous Cougar articles at High50 Dating.