Em Jay awoke in the middle of the night, the call of nature pulling him from a dreamless sleep. The room was dark, but the faint glow from the city below his apartment seeped through the curtains, casting a gentle light across the floor. He swung his legs over the edge of the bed and made his way to the bathroom. The familiar creak of the floorboards and the cool tiles under his feet were comforting in their routine.
After relieving himself, Em Jay decided he was too awake to return to bed. Instead, he headed to the kitchen, filled the kettle with water, and set it on the stove. As he waited for the water to boil, he opened the window next to his wooden desk, letting the cool night breeze flow in. It carried the faint sounds of the city – distant sirens, the hum of traffic, and the occasional bark of a dog. The lights of the city twinkled like stars, a mirror of the sky above.
The kettle whistled, breaking the silence. Em Jay poured the hot water over a tea bag, the steam rising and mingling with the night air. He carried his cup to his wooden desk, settled into his chair, and opened his laptop. The screen illuminated his face as he navigated the cursor to his blog page. He took a sip of the warm tea, savoring its soothing effect.
Greetings to all my dear readers,
Allow me to take you into my life. It is about the reality of an old man like me. At 65 and beyond, my physical strength will surely lessen and lessen. Thanks to God, I can currently leave the hospital bed to someone more deserving. But what tomorrow holds remains uncertain. The possibility for an old man like me to be nursed is great. The question that has been lingering for a couple of weeks now is, can I have another big dream? To start a new career? To start a new marriage? What should be the practical aim?
Let me share this with you. I had been working diligently as an entrepreneur and consultant for almost 35 years. I declared to myself when celebrating my 60th birthday that I had tasted enough and was fully content with what life could offer materially, with no regrets or complaints whatsoever. At that moment, I told myself, it is time to slow down, taking more care of my health by keeping a stress-free routine. Being old and a regular visitor to the hospital isn't a good idea to me. So, I was very happy with a little income, a slow life, and ready to cross to the other plane. After all, how long do I expect to survive? Until 70, 80, or 90?
Frankly speaking, I can't see myself at that age. I used to question myself, why should I stay if I have to rely on others? Why should I stay if I am not contributing anything?
But recently, life has thrown me a curveball.
An old friend reached out, inviting me to join his new fintech startup. The idea of diving back into the entrepreneurial world both excited and terrified me. I had left that life behind when I turned 60, believing that I had experienced everything life could offer materially and professionally. I thought it was time to face the reality of aging and prepare for the next phase of existence.
And then, there's the web novel platform evaluating two of my works, including "A Monologue of an Old Man." The prospect of my writing reaching a wider audience has reignited a spark within me. It's a strange feeling, having these opportunities arise at a time when I had resigned myself to a quieter life.
He paused for a moment, leaning back in his chair. He took a deep breath, feeling the cool breeze on his face. Something was clearly bothering him. He leaned forward and continued typing.
But the most unexpected development has been Clara. A 62-year-old widow with a vibrant spirit, Clara entered my life and brought with her a light that I thought had long dimmed. Our conversations, walks in the park, and shared cups of coffee have woven a tapestry of connection and warmth that I hadn't felt in years. She has awakened something within me, a desire for companionship and love.
Yet, with these new possibilities come old fears. My previous marriage ended in failure, leaving me with a heavy sense of guilt and self-blame. The memory of that failure haunts me, making me doubt my ability to be the partner Clara deserves. What if I repeat the same mistakes? Clara deserves someone strong and reliable, and I am afraid I might not be able to fulfill those expectations.
The thought of integrating into her family, full of strangers, also intimidates me. I worry about the awkwardness, the potential for my health to decline, or the possibility that I might end up having to care for her if she falls ill. Am I truly ready to entangle myself in the complexities of a new relationship at this stage in my life?
He paused again, staring at the screen. The night was quiet, and the city lights flickered below. The weight of his thoughts felt heavy, but he knew he needed to continue.
Tonight, as I sit in the tranquility of the night, the city lights twinkling below my window, I am filled with questions and uncertainty. Can an old man at sixty-five still dream? Can I build a new life filled with love, despite the shadows of my past and the uncertainties of the future? Can I find the strength to embrace these new opportunities, or will my fears hold me back?
To anyone out there who has ever felt alone, afraid, or unsure – know that you are not alone. We all carry our fears and our hopes, and sometimes, the bravest thing we can do is to let someone in. I am learning to do that, and I hope that in sharing my journey, I can inspire you to do the same.
And so, dear readers, I leave you with this question: Is it truly possible for an old man like me to dream again and find love? I don't have all the answers yet, but I am determined to find out.
Wishing you all the courage to embrace the light,
Old Man Em Jay
He hit 'publish' and leaned back once more, staring out at the cityscape. The journey ahead was uncertain, but for the first time in a long while, he felt a spark of hope