Not too long ago, I blogged about my first experience of dating a much younger guy, J. This week, I rediscovered why the May-December dynamic tends to work better when it’s the other way around.
Mr. 21-year-old had returned from a last-minute trip to London eager to see me. It had been a couple of weeks, so I happily accepted his invitation to get together in Roosevelt Island. Especially since I received this text from him before he took off:
“I wana see u so close that my vision blurs, I wanna hold u so tight that I can feel ur heart beat, wana kiss u for as long as I can hold my breath.”
Typos notwithstanding, who wouldn’t enjoy being the object of such ardor?
So I head out to Roosevelt Island. J takes me to a pier with sweeping city views. We kiss and I savor the moment, wondering what else J has in store. I find out soon enough when he drives me to a second scenic overlook. Much as I love taking in NYC’s breathtaking skyline from various vantage points, I was getting hungry at this point and craving more than endless smooching.
We get back in J’s car, where he proceeds to blare some ghetto fabulous music (the kind that those parental advisory stickers were made for) as we drive to Jackson Heights for takeout. With more four letter lyrics than I’ve heard since my college days, I found myself thinking I’m way too old for this.
That reality hit home even more when J followed up the next day with a text message that said–
“I wana suck on ur nip****s n then I want u to suck me off.”
Now I know why I’m not a fan of sexting, or spending time with a guy whose idea of fun is driving from one makeout spot to another.
To be fair, I suppose, J is only 21, the perfect time for being wild and carefree. Though I have my wild and carefree side too, I now know I would rather indulge it with someone who’s had more life experience. Someone closer to my own age, say, 25 and up.