Usually I am repelled by the thought of dating an adult. I picture being a grown-up as stuffy, no room for play, fun, or color in life. It’s “go to the office, kiss wife on cheek, read the news, go to bed, repeat until you die,” as modeled by my parents. But Matteo . . . His version of adult is different. It’s polished, sophisticated, and sure, he owns more than one pair of shoes and a couch made from something other than plastic, but he seems alive still.
