In my early forties, I was in an occasional Twitter-and-mail contact with a guy who, like me, was a Scottish Gaelic learner and an out gay. I enjoyed it, but not enough to really care when it eventually petered out: I didn’t know his age, but his words had a sort of teenage vibe.
This year I came across his Twitter account again, and to my surprise noticed he was actually only four years my junior.
Then again, when I come across something that I wrote in those days, it often feels rather adolescent as well. For all I know, he may have thought me a teenager and tried to humour me.
(originally published on WordPress)
No comments:
Post a Comment