My divorce was final a little under two years ago and, at that time, I figured being an old fart I would just accept my fate and live alone 'til I died. I'm beginning to look at it a little differently now and actually thinking of dating. (true, so far. skip to paragraph two if you want to avoid the bs). I wonder if I'm being slightly unrealistic seeking to date a Victoria's Secrets model. I know, Iknow... Some of you are thinking: "Drifter, Drifter, Drifter. Those girls are too vain and shallow for a meaningful relationship", and you may be right. But... if there's one thing I've gotten from having this dirty little diaper fetish for 60 years it's a more open minded perspective on people and, as vain as these little hotties might appear, deep inside them beats a heart of gold and I am willing to give them a chance. (call me sentimental if you want)
Sorry. I live in the northern U.S. of A. and one of the symptoms of cabin fever is dementia. (friggin' snow never stops!!!) Not to worry, though. The seven foot aardvark on the ceiling says I don't have it.
On a more serious note..
I haven't had to think about the dating scene for nearly 50 years now but I think I can give it a shot again. I'm not really looking for dating advice (however... if you have good advice for old codgers...), but I am concerned about one thing: suppose I hook up with a desirable lady who, by some miracle, falls for me.
Holy shit!!!... now what?
Do I tell her my dirty little secret and risk blowing a wonderful romance? Or do I hide it and end my final years as a fraud? I love all the trappings of a normal relationship. I love straight sex. But I also have a little diaper demon in me that won't go away. OMG... what to do...