age

i have been trying to understand age for my entire life. i cannot yet. and what i do see of it leaves me unsettled and terrified. i am not talking about old age, connotations should not be so readily assigned to words. i am terrified of the continuum, not of an end. a number is meaningless, but the forward current of points that drape the spaces between numbers... well, that is where the secret malignancy of growing older lies. age is not asymptotic, zeno's paradox falls to pieces with the motion of a continuum. i went to a soccer game tonight with a friend i used to work with a couple of years ago. it was her husband's soccer game, an office team. everyone was married, everyone had small children. little boys running around on the sidelines kicking size 3 soccer balls at their mothers while kimberly and i drake obligatory wine coolers and i grew to realize i cannot tell her true things. why does age rot? at small numbers the passing of time drives involuntary change, tricking us into believing growth is a given, almost like breath. but at large numbers the passing of time drives nothing. people say "i missed my boat". the graph levels out and slows until it's motion eventually just stops. somewhere between breath and dying we have to teach ourselves momentum. this is the terror. how can we teach ourselves the power of our own mass when we do not know how to determine our velocity?