Eighteen is weird

Yesterday I had coffee with my stepson Jake. He's eighteen. When I met him he was seven. How is it that I still feel eighteen and sort of wanted to jump his bones? Not really, but he's awfully cute. As long as I don't look in the mirror I'm still eighteen. When I pass guys in their 30s and even 40s, I am attracted to some. And some even look twice at me. But that's not my reality. My reality is dating guys my age and I don't feel attracted to most of them. In my dreams I am younger, have long, shiny hair and am attractive to younger guys. Some of them look through me in real life. But Jake seemed happy to see me. In whatever way, it still felt good.