I hover oversearch.
My heart bangs hard against my ribs.
I press it.
The results load, and my breath catches.
Not in panic or dread, but in possibility.
The search results blur in front of me.
Age-gap relationships.
Power dynamics.
Why older women dating younger men is becoming more common.
All reasonable.
Allveryinteresting.
All absolutely not what I should be reading at 10:23 PM on a Sunday.
I close one tab.
Then another.
And then, against every ounce of logic I possess,
against every responsible adult impulse in my body…
I type something new.
“Attractions between older women and younger men…why?”
Enter.
A list appears.
Psychology articles.
Think pieces.
A BuzzFeed listicle titled“Cougar Love Is Actually Normal, Science Says.”
I snort, then keep scrolling. I’ve never thought of myself as a ‘cougar.’ Plus, Colt seems more mature than a lot of men my age.
Somewhere between a Glamour article and a Reddit thread full of chaos, my brain takes a left turn into a neighborhood it definitely should not be in, and I type:
“Is it normal to fantasize about your personal trainer?”
The results arewild.
I slap a hand over my mouth to stifle a laugh.
“Oh my god. No. Nope. I am unwell.”
But then, because curiosity is stronger than my dignity, my fingers type another one.
