#190) Youth, Is It Wasted On the Young?

At eighteen and a half years of age, Ashley exudes the vitality of youth. She takes her unlined facial complexion for granted, just washes with Dove soap nightly instead of a whole battery of creams and expensive emollients. She doesn’t worry about getting too much sun as she tubes on the river or picnics with friends. She doesn’t give a second thought to the perkiness of her tits. She is a little perturbed by the puffiness of her nipples. Boys seem to notice them through her bikini top. She likes that they get her almost as much attention as her friend Anne’s huge tits. Ashley is more concerned about the mole on her vagina. It is difficult to shave around, and her boyfriend, Luke, often comments on it. When her next boyfriend will also make it a topic of conversation, Ashley will see a dermatologist to have it removed. This will be the first adult male (who is not a suitor) to see Ashley’s vagina. It will embolden her to bare her pussy for a tattoo artist’s eyes, so that she can get a Tasmanian devil cartoon figure inked into her skin in a year from now. For the time being, Ash doesn’t have to give a care about what she eats or when. The staple of her diet is late night pizza and beer with her friends.
Ash is at the age when sex seems to become more complex. She’s having it occasionally with Luke. He’d like to have it regularly. He’d like to try it up her butt. She wishes that they could put the scrambled eggs back in their shells, just go back to her giving him blowjobs in the high school parking lot. Now that she’s gone away to college, intercourse seems to be mandatory, and more significant, like a commitment of fidelity or something. Ashley doesn’t fully realize how the sexual roles have shifted in just the last generation or so.
A question arose in me as I looked at this photo. Would I, if I could, change places with Ashley, knowing what I know now? I’d be losing fourteen years of my life, of aging. As Indiana Jones wisely said, “It ain’t the years, it’s the mileage.” Entailed in the question is the fact that generations have changed over time. Ashley’s generation isn’t as grounded as mine was, seems more cynical. Maybe this relates to the world her generation is inheriting.
So, as much as I might like to lessen some facial wrinkling or circumvent getting the minor basal cell skin cancers I’m battling, I don’t think I’d sacrifice the experience I’ve gained to be able to change places with Ashley. I wonder, if I were three times my age, and closer to the end of my life (I do expect to live to one hundred), would this equation change? Will I feel like I am too tired to think about doing it all again? I don’t fear death now at my age. Will that change as it gets closer, as I sense its presence right over my shoulder? How do you feel about these questions? (That verb seems most appropriate; it’s a gut reaction more than an intellectual one.)

5 responses to “#190) Youth, Is It Wasted On the Young?”

  1. I am at a point in my life, and have been for some time now, where I am comfortable with the wisdom and knowledge I have gained through my life. There have been times I have asked myself this exact question and my answer for me is a resounding “No”
    While I am far from perfect I am happy with who I am and how my life has shaped me.

    For the most part I do not look at the calendar age but more of the how do I feel and the things I do which defines my age more so than any date can. In my youth I was impetuous and rambunctious, now I have embraced patience and a slow but steady hand.

    I this story Ashley “wishes she could put the egg back in the shell” The thought that comes to my mind at this is later in life would she then have regrets at not having done more.
    I have witnessed death and more recently find myself in a position where I am caregiver to someone coming to the end of their life. Last year I had my own near brush with death, while out on my motorcycle a car hit me.
    There are few regrets that I have but there are some, I have tried to live my life to the fullest and have embraced who I am kinks and all. There are lives I have touched and those who have touched me in such beautiful and amazing ways.

    To go back and do it again, even knowing what I know now? No, I wouldn’t change a single minute of it.

    Liked by 3 people

  2. Ah, to be young again (and have crazy tight, firm skin!). I love recalling sex from my teenage years… in the backs of cars, on trails, by the river. I am grateful for our big king size bed, but it was nice to have sex in other places. Fun post 🙂

    Liked by 3 people

  3. The fear of death does not change even if you are twice as old. I am 64 years old. I have had basal cell skin cancer for 40 years, I stutter, but I really don’t want to turn back time. I would lose far too much…

    Liked by 2 people

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