How Old Am I?

How old am I?
  
I am not too old to waste a couple of hours crafting in my mind the perfect man.  And not too old to care that those hours may have been wasted.  Not too old to make the statement that a man of 29 is not too young for me, or a man of 49 too old.  Not too old to have forgotten what that first rush of love feels like, nor too old to forget how much work is required to make it last.  
How old do I need to be to make it okay to still live in a daydream at times?  How much youth must I claim in order to pardon the hours wasted?  How much pain must I profess?  How much anguish must be felt?   How many tears fallen from swollen eyes?  How many hours thinking about what went wrong?  

How old am I?  

I am too young to quit the fantasy, but I am too old to lie.  Truth: I haven’t cried in a very long time.  I haven’t felt anguish or pain, nor thought long and hard about any one person in a very, very long time.  But I have imagined many.  And I have done so because there is safety in the warmth of one’s own imagination.  When the world is not offering that which the heart thinks it desires, there is mind to take over.  And in the mind it can be perfect.

How old am I?

I am too old to paint it perfectly.  I am old enough to paint it truthfully.  I am old enough to include the fights, the breaks, the annoying little habits, the makeups, the dates, the perfect things being said at the perfect time, the laundry, the messes, the kisses.  I am old enough to know all the steps, to know the ingredients and to know what I deserve.  I am old enough to know all of these things.  

How old am I?  

I am old enough to cross blue eyes off the top of the list and replace it with kindness.  I am old enough to remove all physical attributes and replace them with attributes like compassion, love for children, a sincere willingness to forgive, and faith.  I am old enough to know that the beautiful men may or may not be on your brightly lit silver screen; but they are certainly ringing up your groceries, or answering your call to the cable company, or taking your vitals in the ER, or teaching your children.  

How old am I?

I am thirty eight years old, but that really has little to do with this at all.  I am old and young enough to be all at once an expert, a beginner, a failure, a dreamer, and a realist.

How old am I?

I am thirty eight years old.  And I am young enough to wait.