My local date, I was so sure about yesterday, was bad. Actually it haven’t happen today. Bad luck? Youngsters are not reliable? Am I on his priority list? Definitely not. He is not on mine either.
Weird enough, when people work within walking distance. 15 min on feet is more than enough for both to meet in a nice place after working hours. Mr. Age Gap failed to make a grand entrance. Minus ten points. Or even more.
He can still earn lost points to make us even. Late night phone call covered myriad of topics (too many as for the first day) – from open air alternative music festivals, FIFA world cup and players we like, to everyday habits, favorite films and flowers. If I see him on the newly set date with amazing bunch of peonies, I may melt away. Actually peonies make me melt. Not completely though. It’s the season of peonies here now: weddings with peonies, people buy these flowers for lovers, colleagues, wives, mothers and daughters, to congratulate graduates and newlyweds. Singles buy peonies themselves. I live a month of peonies now. And can’t get enough of them – color, smell, form and beauty.
Got a call from Mr. Age Gap on my way home. Millions apologies for canceling (or not planing ) the of date and a sweet warning “I just didn’t want you feel neglected….”
I have a bouquet of peonies in my left hand, sleep deprivation in my mind , hunger in my body and my daughter coming back home tonight. I can plan my idle evening. But on the way back home few questions were popping out – do I apply the same rules and standards to men of my age and to youngsters? Am I more liberal with younger man – expecting less and forgiving more? It seems so. Weird.
I know the answer. Peonies. They blow my mind! But the season is short and I should enjoy it to the fullest. In spite of consequences.