I don’t want a mate. Men need mates their whole lives, biologically, and can father children right up to the end, so it makes sense. Women, once we are past the childbearing age, have nothing left to give to men, so we should be allowed to go free, having done our time.
Thankfully, that is an unusual view of life and love and people.
I’m a lucky dog. Last September a high school classmate’s name popped up on my facebook page. I hadn’t seen her since we graduated in 1965. We started texting.
I’m in SoCal, she’s in Seattle. Both my brothers still live near Bremerton, and I visit them at Christmas. I told her we could meet at my brother’s house and go on a date.
We both thought it was too late in life for love, and each of us had resigned to living alone.
She’s a wonderful woman, always had a crush on me but I never knew. Since Christmas, she has flown down to see me twice, staying a week each time. She has a lovely small home in a suburb of Seattle.
We don’t know what’s in store for us. She says “I just want to make it to 80.” She’s deathly afraid of Alzheimer’s, as she’s lost family and friends to it.