I have to wonder, what do you see when you look at me?
I know what I see, and quite honestly none of this makes any sense… I see a dumpy middle age, well LATE middle aged woman. Sometimes I get a shock when I walk past a shop window, and realise with a start,”that’s me’ that wee woman who generously fills every inch of those shapeless clothes.
None of this really mattered mind you, I was quite happy in my invisibility, I couldn’t have cared less what others might have thought, but really it never even occurred to me that they might be thinking anything. And in general It has to be said I wasn’t thinking anything either, just finally in that comfortable space of being “freed from desire” How much easier it is to get along with people when you are in that mode!
But somehow, you made me look… you walked right past a crowd of bright young attractive things, just to speak to me, not once, not twice but enough times for me to wonder what’s this about? And like the Pavlovian dog, I started to expect it… and then I’d make a point of speaking to you too…
We like each other, I feel I’m not wrong in thinking that.
BUT there’s nowhere for it to go, and what is extraordinary is that I. might have wanted it to go anywhere,… who would have thought…, that side of me was finished with as far as I knew, something has been woken up after a couple of decades!
But as I say there’s nowhere for it to go, I’m a comfy middle aged married and you…. you’re the same age as my son.