| I'm the Older Woman.
The seducer.
The corruptor of youth.
He's young enough to make people gasp.
Or look uncomfortable.
Or ask horrible questions.
"And is this your son?"
I'm the Older Woman.
And some people look at me with disdain.
And some with envy.
And some, some rare few, with... nothingness. Without prejudgement.
But some well meant comments are harsh in my ears.
"As long as you're both happy..."
"Age doesn't matter... not *really"
Damning with faint praise.
Being the Older Woman is...
Frightening.
Exulting.
Exciting.
Lying in my love's arms, not talking about the future, not bringing up the past...
The sex is phenomenal.
And the love is as huge and as engulfing and as adolescent as I've ever experienced.
And the fear of loss is constant.
Being the Older Woman is...
Wincing at the pretty young girls who know how to dress, how to speak, what music to listen to, and feeling the guilt of keeping your Love for yourself, and not letting him choose one of them.
Wanting to sing and dance when you suddenly remember you can't be making him stay.
He's with you because he wants to be.
Being the Older Woman is...
Having a lover with stamina
Being the Older Woman is...
Tenderness and tears and terror and touching and tumult and trepidation and trembling.
Being the Older Woman is...
... wonderful
| 
