Yesterday I found a little flat brown mole on my leg that I didn’t have the day before. Also I discovered that my arms are getting wrinkly if I hold them a certain way. These creeping signs of age make me wonder if I should brace myself to live out the rest of my life without a man.
That’s going to be hard, because I like men. I like having one in my house. I like taking a ride out in the country with one. I like the way they think, unless they are constipated with politics, which doesn’t appeal to me. But for the most part, I like the opposite sex.
But if I am getting wrinkly and developing moles, who is going to want me? I had a chance to have myself a boy toy, 10 years younger than me, but I worried about the firmness of his flesh as compared to mine. Would I dare to get undressed? Of course I could always turn out all the lights and just have a candle. But in the end I chickened out.
Men my own age present a different problem. They are wrinkly too, and they have bad backs and their body parts tend to hang down. Also there is the chance that they might get sick and need me to nurse them, or wind up in a nursing home, or even die. I sure don’t want to bury another man, it is much too painful.
But then again, to live is to risk.
© 2011 Just Lynne - 6/17/11