Martha Ketro on what to do when he’s younger

The image of a mature woman next to a young lover is repeatedly depicted and in all colors – from tragic to comic. “The romance of May with December” can turn into the story of Phèdre, Julia Lambert or Madame Gritsatsueva. It could be the poignant story of Harold and Maud or one of Françoise Sagan’s tender novels where boys always suffer. But a woman who enters such a relationship often focuses on the ugliest of all possible reflections – if you imagine these images as a room with many mirrors. Because we’re not positive, because we’re notorious, because time is working against us.

Public opinion also opposes it: you will be afraid to bring a young man into your business or go to his friends. In the first case, they will humiliate him, in the second, you. Oh no, they won’t say it directly, but your adult friends will repeatedly use the word “boy”, and their girlfriends will look at you like you’re a ruin.

However, even if no one is offended, you will still torture yourself – it is impossible not to notice the difference in pace. They are fast, energetic, emotional, hot, violent. We are slow, lazy, caustic, cool. They burn directly in the palms, like paper, and we smolder like coal, giving off heat when everyone has long since left the fire.

Some choose to be cynical, forging quick alliances between a horny old woman and a sperm-toxic dude who doesn’t care. But with all the looseness, it’s hard for them to get rid of the feeling of unnaturalness. Others rely on intelligence, experience and maturity, applying all the accumulated art of seduction, capture and retention. Others themselves fall prey to little perverts who are not deterred by the aesthetics of withering, but the psychological comfort created by an adult woman, on the contrary, attracts them.

When intellect and passion converge, depth and strength, it is impossible to resist. But it is, more often than not, a very quick fire, because anxiety does not allow a woman to stay in it longer. She is driven by fears.

Fear of being abandoned. When a young lover leaves, it is so ridiculous and embarrassing (see “Madame Gritsatsueva”) that it is better to run away in advance. Therefore, a woman disappears at the first sign of cooling, sometimes breaking off quite lively relationships. Even unreasonable jealousy is difficult to live with, and even if there are so many young girls around him, it is impossible not to boil in this infernal cauldron. “I’m too old for this shit,” she declares and leaves.

Fear of eating someone else’s life. A young man should fall in love with girls, get married, have children and not sit with you by the fire in the position of a domestic cat, even if he is not neutered.

Fear of getting old. Young lovers increase self-esteem only at first, and then become a painful background – for your flabby skin, fatigue, difficult character. We get used to our reflection in the mirror and don’t notice the changes, but a bright, unforgiving light still burns beside the young creature. To swim in it, and we run away.

Fear of attachment. In fact, the adult psyche is elastic, it takes a week, five cocktails, three slices of cake and a new man to mourn a love story. But it’s so scary to get stuck, breaking up against a boy is ridiculous, suffering is ugly, so a woman doesn’t let love sprout, belittle it and rip it out by the roots at the first opportunity.

At the end, she mutters something like “young people whose milk has not dried on Sagan’s lips must not fall into the hands of ladies who smell of whiskey”, writes him a beautiful letter, blocks him on the social networks, made a dozen lives- saying stupid things and forget. There will always be someone old enough to entertain her according to her age – slowly and with dignity.

But there is something inexpressibly attractive in this rake. Seduce a pair, beautiful and fit, you feel young. But by seducing a young man, one feels immortal. This vile radiance, which later betrays, attracts – not like a stupid butterfly, but like an ancient relic creature under the water column. You stick out your graceful head on a slender neck (even though you have a huge body underwater), squint blindly and start crawling – slowly, ponderously, carefully. Then you will come to your senses – where are you, Lord! – and back. But for a short time, you had it all: both light, and a breath of air, and eternity.

And yet, the bitterness of the situation is not there. And the fact that you forget the main thing about fear: love has no age (basically there is no sex there, only radiation), and light is a phenomenon priceless, and the joy washes away both the past and the future, just let it be. But who will allow, who will allow – at least for a long time.