Life at № 42 by E.M. Coutinho
If I were 22 again and single, I could probably fall in love with someone like the boy at the piano. It’s so strange for so much of life to suddenly be yesterday. I didn’t shave today and my skin looked so heavy, so weathered.
I don’t hate middle agedness, there are many advantages. I don’t feel the need to spend hours a week at the gym anymore. Some days my hair looks funny and I don’t particularly mind. Of course I still make an effort, I still dress properly, but now it’s more a part of the routine than an emotional necessity. Nothing left to prove, no one left to impress. There’s freedom in that.
Years ago I spent nights awake wondering what life would turn out to be. Now I know. It’s fine.