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The Key

Recently, in my newly found unfolding relationship with TDH (Tall Dark Handsome) I became acutely aware of what romance truly looks like as an over 60.

Since I’ve only been dating him for just about three months it threw me a little off guard when he offered me the keys to his place, “the bachelor pad.” Now, back in the day, I would have been all in! I would have been wow! This is great. Experience has taught me, it actually takes a while to know someone and with my history of jumping in too soon, I thought it certainly can’t hurt to go slow. If anything, something good will only get better. While I am older, and dying at any minute is more likely than when I was younger, I still think going slow is the way to go…at least for me…and so, I immediately told him no thank you. And anyway, why would I need them…at least, at this point in time. Still, when he offered me the keys, I allowed myself to linger in the momentary joy of knowing he trust me and was obviously into me being a part of his life in a more intimate way until the real reason came out and killed all the joyous fantasy of being wanted and quickly revealed the reality of dating a “slightly” older man. Because, when I replied no and stated it seemed out of order since I had yet to meet his significant friends or children and words of love had still to be exchanged and that it was way too soon in my book…his answer was (jokingly?), “Well, if I die in my apartment I’d want someone to find me.” Dating in my 60’s is obviously the new 666.

When I came to, I looked at him and said, “How about giving your keys to your children.”

He replied, “They don’t live in town.”

That was when I realized I was actually having this conversation in real time.

With the thought of finding my new beau dead, any romantic notion of intimacy went out the window and the idea of discovering a cold corpse came crashing in.

For some crazy reason all I could think of at that moment was the scene from “Schitt’s Creek” where David and his sister are standing in the bedroom in some dive hotel that is to be their new shared room in their new dive hotel home and they started arguing over who should sleep in the twin bed closer to the door because the one who sleeps closer to the door would most likely be the one to get murdered first. “You sleep closer to the door David!” “No, you sleep closer to the door, you get murdered first!”

The whole “I’d like you to have the key to my place” conversation reminded me while meeting TDH has made me feel like I am 16 all over again on the inside…the reality of dating in the over 60 category has proven otherwise on many other fronts.

For example…

First, there is the constant, endless, barrage of medicine, joint pain, and overall health decline conversations. Every conversation seems to end with the sentence, “You may want to see a doctor about that.”

Add to that, the fact that apparently going to bed by nine is the new sexy.

Add to that, going out past nine brings up the fact that who wants to drive at night anyway.

Add to that, teeth guards, ear plugs, eye masks, and all the other contraptions one wears to sleep are not exactly conducive to being in the mood.

All I’m really in the mood for is getting the house temperature correct so that sleeping through the night without getting up a million times to change the thermometer or going to the bathroom a zillion times sounds like the kind of dream I long for.

Did I mention snoring?

Even with all that, it’s exciting to think love is still possible at any age.

So, as I wait and see how my romance unfolds with TDH, I’m reminded the most important key in life is not about having the key each other’s front door but the key to each other’s hearts.

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