Lure of the Young

He had never seen anything like her before. Her joie de vivre, enthusiasm, lack of inhibition… her silky hair, dancing eyes, quick gait, her youth. It rejuvenated him, it recharged him… around her, he felt immortal. Like she had breathed new life into him.

Just when he had gotten comfortable with his old colleagues and team mates, she had come in. With scant regard to age or seniority, she spoke with him. Told him her anxieties, conflicts and fears… and he heard it all. Took it in and gave her no advice. A couple of months was all it took and before he knew it, he was hopelessly devoted. Not that he would admit it ever. To himself or to anyone else. Least of all, to her.

Until one rainy day, it all came tumbling out over a dinner of greasy chicken and paneer tikka. One look at her face drawn into an expression of utter shock and disbelief, and he was undone. It was the end of everything beautiful he had imagined. He tried to put her out of his mind but her name kept popping up all around him. He heard her voice in his sleep and it deepened the pain within.

But she was made of stronger stuff. She didn’t let go of him. Yet he suffered endless nights knowing that he would never again be in that sacred space of trust and friendship again. He was mistaken once again. She remained the same… charming, funny, trusting.

It took him so many years before he could finally admit to himself and her… “Yes, I have loved you.”

[Yet another story from my favorite romantic theme of the older man and the younger woman – the sheer magnetism of youth and the endless search for the youth within…]