This is the final chapter in the Despair series. This was the final straw that led to me feeling a complete loss of hope. To summarize, I was the Last Man Standing among my friends, I realized I had Wasted Time, and I figured out that the Next One Could Be the Last. I would recommend clicking on those to fully understand how I got here.

The further into my thirties I got, the harder it became to find someone near my age to click with. Everyone seemed to already be paired off. At this point, I wasn’t interested in dating a single mom either. So I began gravitating towards younger women. Mid to late twenties became my dating pool, but I’ll admit, there was even a 23-year-old in there too.

It’s hard to find mental attraction to younger girls. Only a special girl can hit those notes. It became almost as hard to find this, as it was to find a girl my age who’s single with no kids. Almost. But then, out of nowhere, came a single girl. She had no kids. She had no extreme baggage. She was near my age.

I remember this day when she was telling a story about finding maggots in someone’s microwave to a group of us. I said, “it’s maggots, Michael.” Everyone in the group looked at me with inquisitive eyes. She looked at them in disbelief and said, “it’s the Lost Boys, guys. You need to see that movie.”

I’m not saying people my own age are better because they get my movie references. I am saying that this indicative of a bigger thing these people bring to the table younger girls simply can’t. But I digress. Maybe I’ll have to write a younger girls vs. older girls post one day. This is about one particular girl, My Age Girl.

I wasn’t attracted to her at first. She was pretty, but not my type. The more I got to know her though, the more attracted I became. She had such a wonderful personality to go along with her nice ass and ample bosom. She was the kind of person who could light up a room and chat with anyone, which I admired. Then one day I woke up and realized that she was the one I had been searching for all this time.

I took advantage of the time we spent together getting to know her, and allowing her to get to know me. I didn’t go for the kill right away because I was really enjoying the whole process of the growing crush, which I believed was mutual. I truly believed she felt this way too. Every scenario I imagined had us working out and living happily ever after. It was all so exciting. The little looks we would give each other, the inside jokes, the developing closeness. I think a part of me delayed asking her out because I liked this excitement so much. I didn’t want to risk it coming to an end.

It couldn’t last forever though. I had to ask at some point before it became too late. I go on many dates, ask out many women, but the ones that I feel could be “The One” are so few and far between. They are rare birds, and add to that the closeness of age we had, she was truly a gem. So when she turned me down, I was crushed way more than the typical disappointment. I felt heartbreak. I felt despair. The kind of despair where nothing could bring me out of it. A few days after this, a pretty girl from my past asked me to go to lunch with her, and I wasn’t even excited. It did nothing do break my despair. Only time could heal this one, and I knew it. I just didn’t know how much time (it ended up being about a month).






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