The author and her partner met when she was n29 and he was 46. Now that he's 57, she's timing more about how their future will look.
Courtesy of Victoria Peel Yates.
On New Year's Day, I sat crying alone on the sofa while my partner, Max, slept. I wished it were just the one too many glasses of cava I had the night before. But it was something worse: a sudden, panicky feeling that time had moved faster than I realized.When we met in 2015, I was 29, and he was 46 — 17 years my senior. He looked so youthful that I assumed he was in his late 30s. If I'm honest, the age difference made me hesitate, but the connection between us was too strong to ignore. He made me feel seen and wanted in ways no one else had before, and after a few months of resisting, I gave in to my feelings.After 11 years, I worry about things my friends don't think about yetIn the early days, he used to say, "I wish I were 10 years younger so I could have ten more years with you." It sounded so romantic to 29-year-old me, and 10 years seemed like an eternity. I wasn't prepared for how quickly they would pass.Over a decade later, Max still has the same energy and drive he had when I met him. Now 57, he's not showing signs of slowing down anytime soon, despite a few health niggles. He regularly spins records as a DJ, indulging in his passion for music.
