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Why I’ll Still Love You When You’re Ninety

Why I’ll Still Love You When You’re Ninety

I’m sitting in the waiting area while he gets his hair cut. I’d offered to come with him that morning since they didn’t do appointments there, so there was no way of knowing how long he’d have to wait. “That way, if you have to wait for a little bit, you’ll have a buddy with you,” I’d said.

But we’d been pleasantly surprised to find that he only waited about two minutes before someone could see him.

He’s sitting in the chair, discussing what he wants done with his stylist. The usual back and forth consultation. I pull out my phone, check my emails, start playing a game.

And then I hear it. The most beautiful noise in the world. His laugh. I love that laugh. I feel a warmth rise up in my chest in response.

It’s a big reason I fell in love with him in the first place, that laugh. There’s something about a person who laughs with such wild abandon. It betrays a passion. A confidence. A tendency to get lost in the moment.

When a person laughs like that, you know that they feel things deeply and can express those emotions without fear. Even if it makes them look a little silly.

And to me, that’s about the most attractive quality in the world.

I lift my eyes from my phone and steal a glance at him — parts of him anyway. I can really only see his profile and his reflection in the salon mirror. But I can tell that he’s smiling. He and the stylist are still chatting, but now she’s started to cut his hair. And I can’t tell you how I know, but I can tell he’s started to talk about me. Even though I can’t quite make out what he’s saying from where I’m sitting.

It occurs to me as I wait for the haircut to be over that I’ll probably always love him this passionately, no matter how old he gets. That I’m drunk on his eyes, his smile, his laugh. It’s an ageless love.

And I bet he feels the same way.

Featured Image: CC BY – Pan Pacific