Lessons in Love

Normally, I do not care what other people think of me. I live my life the way I see fit and your approval is not needed. My mama used to say "what other people think of you is none of your business," and I used to agree. But sometimes you may find yourself in situations where people outside of your friends and family have opinions about you or judge you. Dating someone much younger/older than you is one of those situations.

When I met Donny, I didn't know or care how old he was. Obviously, I knew he was younger and he knew I was older, but I think several months had gone by before I found out he was much younger than I had thought, and I was much older than he had thought. But, again, it didn't matter. We were just hanging out. Having fun. We never expected to fall in love. And once that happened, and I only speak for myself here, I fell hard. And deep. The love I felt for him filled me with not only so much happiness and contentment, but also a sense of fear and anxiety as well. Because I knew in my heart that one day I would have to let him go. Even if I still loved him when that day came. I remember telling his mother and his father and his aunt Debbie not to worry. That I would not keep him from having all the things in life that he deserved. Even though at the time he was too young to settle down and marry and have kids, I knew he deserved those things. Deserved someone he could build a life with, grow old with. And that someone was never going to be me.

Seven years is a long time. Many relationships that do not have the unique challenges ours had do not make it to seven years. And I wish I could say the whole seven years were as happy as the first three or four, but unfortunately, they weren't. But then again, what long term relationship does not have issues and problems.

Ours was always plagued with the additional question of, "Is it time?" "Am I too old now?"

Even though he may have done things that told me the answer was, "Yes. It is." He would never have hurt my feelings by saying as much to me. That is not his style. Even though it may have been better for me in the long run. Better for both of us if he had. Sometimes you have to be cruel to be kind.

But instead, he would say "No. I don't care how old you are. You look like Jane to me."

And I would allow it because I didn't want to let go yet.

But time waits for no man (or woman in this case) and as the years began to roll by faster and faster, we watched as more and more of his friends began to settle down, and have children, or buy houses, etc... and I would feel guilty because I had done those things. He had not. And to my horror, I no longer looked like his hot older girlfriend. More and more people assumed I was his mother. Young women would openly flirt with him in front of me, not realizing their mistake. It was embarrassing for us both. Although, again, he would never hurt my feelings and admit that to me.

He would only say, "I don't want no young girl, Jane! Get real."

Just like he never told me that his boss and the other guys he worked with began to give him a hard time at work and tease him about the "old hag" that he dated. I found out about that one from a woman he dated after me. Her nickname for me was "grandma." My heart filled with love for him when I found out that he had endured this in silence. Protecting me. And also shame. Because while he protected me, I, on the other hand, became more and more jealous and insecure. I watched time march across my face and my body. I watched as I developed jowls and thin, sagging, skin on my neck, my stomach, my thighs. As my once firm, round, behind became flat and slid down the back of my legs. And until you are old, my dears, you cannot possibly know what I am talking about. So do not tell me you think I am pretty, or to go to the gym. I look good for my age, and yes, a gym may help some. But once you are old you are old and you cannot build up your skin. Or wrinkles. Or grey hair. And I could not age gracefully with this beautiful man, who by the requirement of his job alone, has a body that is firm and flexible. Every single muscle defined.

So the jealousy and bitterness... increased to the point that I changed. I let it consume me until I no longer was the naturally happy girl I used to be. I was no longer was the social person I used to be. I was no longer the sexual person I used to be. I was unhappy. I did not want to go out with him and feel the stares (real or imagined) and I definitely did not want to be naked anymore. Lights off now, please and thank you. So, yes, he cheated. Wouldn't you? I can't say I wouldn't if I were in his shoes. And I am certainly not saying it was right. But I can definitely understand it.

And we went on like this. I don't know if it was long enough, or too long. But we went on trying until neither of us could see the point in it anymore. It was time.

And yes, when he began to date, to have girlfriends, I did run the first few off. I did. And he may have been upset with me at the time. But I am sure he is glad I did now. Because he is the shit! And he was selling himself short with these women. I only had to take one look to say, "no. not her." Too young, too plain, too stuck up for no reason. He finally began to get angry with me. Began to hide them from me, thinking I just did not want him to be with anyone if it wasn't with me. And I admit, there were times I had to look deep within myself and ask myself the same thing. I didn't think so. I hoped not. I admit, as long as we were both single, we maintained a close friendship that I was in no hurry to give up. But I DID want him to find someone. To be happy. To have the things he deserved that I could not give him. And I don't know if he ever lost faith that he would find her, but I never did. And when I saw her name in his friends list, heard he took her to his company picnic, and his phone calls stopped, and my texts went unanswered. I went and looked at her profile and it only took one look and I knew. As I'm sure he must have known. As I'm sure those who are close to him know. And I thought, "That's her. that's the one we've been looking for."

So please know, Donny Jones, Melissa West, and all of my friends and loved ones, that, although I grieve the loss of my youth, I grieve the loss of my love, and I grieve the loss of my best friend, I am so happy for you. I celebrate your success in making it through to the other side. I celebrate love (because love IS the answer) and I celebrate the happiness of my best friend.

And for all my friends and acquaintances, PLEASE stop telling me how you're sorry he did me wrong, or that I deserve better, or how she "isn't all that."

He didn't, I don't, and yes, she is.