Adding up the years

  “I'll always be a year older than you.” She told me. It wasn't true, aged 26 she took the newly developed treatment and was aged 26 forever. I didn't.


  “You can afford it, its safe, why don't you get it done?” She whined when I was 27 as she was still 26. I told her I was sorry, but I still felt like I had some growing to do.


  “Why not now? For the children's sakes?” She queried when I was 33 and she was still 26. I asked her if she liked the beard, I couldn't grow a proper one when I was younger.


  “You're going grey, surely its now time, you're much older than all of our friends.” She entreatied when I was 40 and she was still 26. I told her it made me look distinguished, gave me an advantage over all the young bucks at work.


  “I feel embarrassed by you, its like being married to my father. The kids think its weird too, and don't want to bring their dates home.” She moaned when I was 48 and she was still 26. I said she should broaden her horizons, she still did all the same things she did all those years ago, while I had new appreciations of things I used to take for granted.


  “I'm leaving you, I need a man my own age. Just why do you have to be so awkward?” She cried when I was 54 and she was still 26. I told her that I would miss her, but our needs were different now, so I understood. I hoped she would not get hurt.


  “Its still not too late. Take it before you get too old, I'll miss you.” She needled when I was 62 and she was still 26. I told her that I enjoyed her visits, but I was nearly retired and did not want to work forever.


  “I just can't keep up with the modern world, everything is different, be everyone is still the same, except you.” She complained when I was 74 and she was still 26. I told her that I didn't need to keep up with the modern world, she should take it easy, what was the point of moving forwards all the time if you couldn't stop and admire the view?


  “What will I do when you go? I'm not ready to be the head of the family, I don't have the patience to sort out everyone's problems.” She worried when I was 86 and she was still 26. I told her to relax, the young have a way of landing on their feet, adapting to their circumstances, she was still young, it would all work out.



  “What's the big secret? The master plan? Nothing, that's what. You've grown old and now you're dying. You could still be young, doing all the things we used to, but no, you have to be different, have to be the odd man out. You've wasted your chance and soon you'll be dead, that's it. End of story, turn the lights out on your way out. Goodbye world, hello wormfood.” She raged when I was 97 and she was still 26. I told her she was too young to understand.