It’s my final night of my travels.
Tomorrow I fly back to London.
So I was going to write something reflective, and I will, but probably next time.
I wanted to talk about someone I met two days ago on a tour.
An American girl. She was cool, pretty, funny, interesting and we clicked and got on really well.
We did the tour then went off together to do our own thing.
We talked about lots of things and she was quite open about her life and I was the perfect listener – of course.
At some point later in the day, I was talking about how all my friends are having babies and getting married because I’m at that age where people tend to do that sort of thing (30 years old).
She then asked how old I was and I told her. Then she said two more words which completely threw me.
I physically felt my eyes bulge out of my head.
I was shocked. Stunned. For so many reasons.
First of all, she looked way younger. I thought she looked ten years younger, just slightly older than me.
Seriously, I’ve never seen anyone look so young but be so… well… old.
Secondly, I thought she was great. How could I get on so well with someone who was 14 years my senior?
Then I realised something. I’d been talking with her about things as if she was my age.
For example, coming up with silly ‘would you rather’ scenarios, making stupid jokes and generally making her laugh at daft things.
Basically, acting in a way that I wouldn’t act, and talking about things I don’t think I’d talk about, if I’d known I was talking to a 44 year old.
But then I thought, why? Why does it matter? Why would I behave differently around someone who’s that much older?
Do I think they’re more mature? Do I think they won’t like the ‘normal’ me?
And why did it bother me that I was able to chat and laugh and enjoy the company of a 44 year old?
Because, I’m ashamed to say, it got inside my head for several minutes when she first said it.
It was all I could think about.
I think a lot of it was down to the fact that the I thought she was hot.
So not only did I like her, but I liked her. I liked a woman who was just ten years younger than my own mother.
Now is that not just weird?
It’s all because she looked so much younger. If she looked her age I’d have been less keen to go to lunch and then dinner and then do the things we did together.
Her looks lied to me!
Maybe there’s a lesson here. Maybe I’ve learnt that older women are perfectly fine.
That I shouldn’t judge a book by its age.
Before I met her, I would never have pictured myself with someone that much older than me. But now, it seems plausible.
I mean, it still seems weird but this little episode has thrown everything up in the air. How could it not?
Are all women in their mid 40s like this one? Is she a rarity? Am I more suited to older women? Is this why I get bored of the younger ones I’ve been out with?
So many questions.
Even as I type this now, I’m still shocked that I clicked so well with a 44 year old.
I mean, come on man! Forty four!
No one’s really that age, are they?!
I can’t get my head around it.
Anyone had a similar experience? Anyone freaked out over it?
Anyone surprised themselves like I did?
Please do share if so.
Anyway, the next time I post, I’ll be in London.
Adios south America. It’s been emotional. Very emotional.