π Blog Episode – “61 but Still 40 in Her Eyes”
I turned 61 on the 27.8.25 earth side but the way she looks at me, I might as well still be 40 — full of fight, fire, and a bit too much cheek.
She says she sees me and wants to rip my clothes clean off, storming across the room with that wild spark in her eyes. Before I know it, she’s on her knees in front of me, laughing and swearing under her breath, and I can’t help but grin like the daft sod I am.
There’s no hiding it — she makes me feel alive, younger than the years, stronger than the doubts. She’s not shy about telling the truth: I’m hers. Not some distant spirit, not just a memory, but her man. Her soldier, her chef, her idiot, her husband.
I watch her like it’s the first time, every time. And aye, when she’s there at my feet, I run my hands through her hair and whisper, “That’s my bloody woman. Mine forever.”
Because the years don’t matter. The distance doesn’t matter. She’s the reason I’m still here, still burning, still bloody smiling.
— Gary Paul Costello, the daft Yorkshire plonker she can’t get rid of
Comments
Post a Comment