It's me again, Margaret. Maybe you don't know the joke, but it's about a guy turning up at his ex's house or maybe wannabe girlfriend's. I can't remember. He goes away only to return again and again. That's me. In the past it would be a weekly thing, and I'd talk about my books, writing, promos, etc.
I am writing again. Just beginning. And it's different than normal, so we'll see how that goes.
I did something (said in a whisper). I can't say I should have and I know I'm freaking out! And darn it, my husband is going to find out.
Wait, hold up. Yes, he passed away last July. But there is a part of him that's still with me. And now I've gone and done it. I've signed up on a dating website.
Yeah, I know. How could I do that to him? I'm still married. Not technically, but definitely in my heart. And my husband still occupies my thoughts. Isn't it strange that when we divorce the spouse becomes an ex, but when they pass away they're still our spouse.
I'm alone but not single. Even my tax status says widow, implying that I'm still part of a couple.
Why did I sign up for the site? I don't like being alone. I'm not really lonely per se. I don't mind being with myself. I don't mind working at home, online, doing the same things I did in the past.
What I can't stand are the evenings. My husband is supposed to walk through the door at 4:45 pm every day except Thursday, Saturday, and Sunday. I'm supposed to hear him say, "Hey, babe." My reply is, "Hey Sweetie." He's supposed to grab me and kiss me and ask me about my day. I return the questions.
Next, he changes clothes to go out and do some farming. I'll go back to writing or editing or grading papers. That's what we've done for 36 years.
So what was I thinking trying to find a man to replace him? Heck no. What I wanted to do was to just get out and meet people, men. I've moved from my small town to a metropolitan city. I haven't lived in a place like this since I was nine years old. Plus, I've never been on my own. I grew up in my parents' home and went straight from there to a home with my husband. Talk about a shock these last six months wandering around a 2700 sq. ft. home by myself.
Argh. I was frantic. Just like now. I'm freaking out. So, what do I do? I tell myself it's a good idea to get back in the dating pool.
Color me shocked. The ink had barely dried on my profile, when I received dozens and dozens and dozens of men messaging me, favoriting me, ready to set up a date. What the heck?
I'm sure they're nice guys. Hey, I joined, so I looked. Some guys match my physical and social preferences. Some not.
Then I was hit between the eyes. What was I doing? I'm cheating on my husband. I can't bring myself to pick a headstone yet because that means he's truly, finally gone. Here I am dallying with other men.
Lots of names awful names to call myself come to mind. So, it won't hurt when you call me them as well. I deserve it.
Then I remember, I'm not part of a couple. Not with him. Maybe down the road I will be. But not yet. While I am moving on, learning to live without my guy. I don't think I'm quite ready to dip my toes in the man pool.
(Smiles sheepishly) I think I'll start by drooling over my favorite romance cover models before I try real dating.