I am always honest… except when I don’t want to be.

I wrote this blog in real time as these events unfolded in the past 3 days.

This is a story of a privileged person’s problems. Losing one’s looks to age is a thing. I am aware that there are people out in this world with much bigger problems than me, but to see my youth disappear, and my looks fade isn’t fun. Heads aren’t turning like they used to. I’m processing where I am, so I can move on with my life. I can’t be alone on this. Youth felt like it would last forever, until now. I want it back, and I’ve made it the object of my life.

Let me set the stage first

When I was 13, roundabout, no girls paid any attention to me. They all went after my friends. It was very upsetting. The hot 13 year olds were just mean to me. Of course, hot meaning, to me as another 13 year-old. The summer I turned 15 everything changed. I came out of my shell. I became good-looking, and I stayed good-looking. In high school, girls 2, even 3 years older than me pursued me. My whole life “dating” and “sex” came easy. Even in my early 40s, girls in their 20s wanted to date me. That’s how it always was. I self-deceivingly dressed up my sex-capades with thoughts of romance. “She’s the one!” Turns out, every girl I dated I thought, “she was the one!” Little did I realize I was subtly putting my self-worth as a person in the hands of what these girls thought of me.

I always knew it would end one day, but who thinks about things like this too seriously when being young and good looking still works for them. I thought I was ready for that day because I always supported myself since I was 18, so I’d always know how to take care of myself, and I wouldn’t have to rely on someone else. It did help. But it didn’t prepare me for the emotional vacuum left in the wake of all that attention I was getting as a good-looking guy. Unconsciously, I was using sex to validate myself. I relied on other people to supply me with, attention, feeling wanted, and feeling desired. My self-esteem relied on what my partners thought of me and when it ended, I had little self-esteem at all.

The past 5 months

I’m doing a lot of crazy things to deny getting older. I can pass for 40 so I’ve been lying about it on dating apps. I thought, it’s just sex, no one asks, no one cares. I didn’t think I’d actually meet someone I liked. but I did. I got attached quickly. It was an intense whirlwind romance. I had the best first date I can ever remember. All the right things were said. Everything clicked. The vibe was perfect. Neither one of us wanted the night to end. I knew we could never be together because I set the ball rolling by lying about my age by 13 years on the app. I was conflicted inside because the relationship was not age appropriate. If I wanted it to be real, and I did, I had to tell her the truth, and tell her now before we slept together. Although I’d risk losing her, I did tell her, and our relationship abruptly ended.

My friends said, if I really liked her, the nicest thing I can do now is leave the girl alone, so begrudgingly I did. Although I didn’t get what I wanted, I felt redeemed. That’s not the type of person I aspire to be – honest, unless it’s inconvenient. I wanted to be with her because she’s a beautiful person, but I refused to address the reason why I lied – I wanted to be loved, to be wanted, and I was afraid I wasn’t good enough the way I am. My heavy heart gets an instant sigh of relief, like a drug, from an intimate partners attention and affection. It tells me, I’m okay; nothing’s wrong, no need to look here.

I’ve gone to further extremes to compensate for my insecurities. I’ve been having as much sex as I can, with as many people as I can. Wasting hours on dating apps, obsessively checking them. I can compare it to, the feeling of playing a slot machine. I’ve gotten 3 tattoos, and 1 piercing in this time. I’m buying Botox, filler, and skin boosters online from Korea. I’ve learned to inject them with syringes into my face. I’ve gotten pretty good at it. People noticed. I get a lot of compliments. I’ve taken out a twenty-five thousand dollar personal loan to have cosmetic surgery done on my face. I haven’t had it done yet. I’m still on the fence. I’m self-absorbed and obsessed with being young again. Have you ever made an impossible wish that you know will never happen? My wish is to be young again.

A trusted, closed mouth friend told me, cosmetic surgery will make me feel better for a short time, but it won’t take care of the problem that I have. In my heart I knew he was right. Fixing oneself with outside things is temporary and never sustained. It needs to be constantly supplied with new self-validating things. It’s a self-deceiving thing us humans do. We use money and sex as symbols to prove we are successful in life. The concept of being happy in life as a definition to success did not occur to me. I’ve proven that to absurd extremes. Fixing my circumstances was what I was trying to do, when counter-intuitively fixing my soul was what I really needed. Getting what I want, and happiness are not the same thing. I learned that life lesson long ago, but I still couldn’t let go of trying to control my situation.

THIS WEEK: The heart-breaking tragic twist and end of this story.

After sitting for an hour waiting at the vet, I decided to leave and come back another day when it wasn’t so busy. When I got home, I looked at her and noticed how skinny she got. Her breathing became labored and she took a few steps, then plopped herself on the floor where she stood. I immediately brought her back to the vet. Her breathing got worse. She was having a very hard time and started foaming at her mouth. The vet said, I have to bring her to the emergency room. On the ride to the emergency room, I watched Tilda struggle to take her last breathes. Tilda died 5 minutes before we got there. All of a sudden, she was gone. The most innocent, sweetest thing in my life died, and I beat myself up about it because I should’ve brought her to the vet 2 weeks ago. But it was a cough. I don’t run to the doctor when I have a cough. Daddy’s girl is gone and never coming back.

There’s an emptiness and silence in this house in every room now. I miss her so much. She was here on this earth for 4 short years. She had a lot of life left to live. She deserved a full life, but life isn’t fair, and life is cruel. I’m 58 and I’ve been complaining my life wasn’t good enough, and I want more. My sadness over her untimely death was a reality check, and has helped me to have clarity. My obsession for youth seems so, selfish, trivial, and a non-issue now. I’ve undergone a profound perspective change, a re-appreciation for my life, and more acceptance for my age.

I can’t help but think I squandered many years just to “dating” and all that goes into it, and I ask myself, would my life have been better if I would’ve been unattractive or less attractive? Would I have been able to grow, and achieve more if I weren’t so distracted? Perhaps. That thought is followed by – or would my life be worse? Would I have just become one of the millions living to work, working to live, getting drunk on weekends and watching TV every night? It’s energy wasted on pointless, morbid reflection. It took what it took to get me here. Although the world is unfair, random and cruel, it is also sublime and filled with fleeting laugh-out-loud moments.

There are no guarantees. I may die today. Many people do not make it to my age, and some die very young. I’m really lucky to be alive. There will be a day when I’m older, where I’ll say to myself, I wish I was 58 again. Because the truth is, I love my life. Sometimes it’s hard to remember how good I have it. Now my impossible wish to God, is to bring Tilda back, but that just doesn’t work.

God, thank you for Tilda’s time with us, now please gently take her home.