[Nina A]

I’m 39, and for the first time in years, I’m seeing someone who makes me feel alive again. His name is Evan, and he’s 31. We met at a local art fair. He was buying a ceramic mug, and I teased him that his choice looked like something from a college dorm. He laughed, and somehow that moment turned into coffee, then dinner, then something slow and unexpected.

He’s full of restless energy and optimism. He plans road trips at the last minute, stays out late with friends, and believes everything is still possible. My life has a steadier rhythm. I teach high school English, co-parent two teenagers, and find peace in quiet mornings or long walks by the river. Sometimes I feel like we’re living in two different worlds.

Still, he makes me laugh in a way I had forgotten. He listens closely. He never flinches when I mention my past, my divorce, or the years I spent trying to rebuild myself. When I once told him I worry that I’m too settled for him, he smiled and said, “You’re not settled. You’re grounded.” I think about that often.

But there are moments when the age difference hums underneath everything. When we walk into a restaurant, I notice how people look at us. Once, at a friend’s gathering, someone joked that I was robbing the cradle. I laughed along, but later that night, it stung. He talks about moving cities, starting new things, while I think about saving for my kids’ college or whether I can take another day off work. His world feels like it’s still expanding. Mine feels like it’s been carefully rebuilt.

And yet, there are nights when he cooks dinner in my kitchen, music playing, my kids laughing in the next room, and I feel a quiet kind of rightness. It’s not the dizzy, young love I remember from years ago. It’s gentler. More intentional.

What do I do, April? Should I continue or stop?

[Author]

Posts