My Next…

I feel like I have been hyper-active on social media lately. I feel like I get like that when I have something that I want to say, but just don’t know how to say it.

Instead, I say everything except the one thing I wish to say.

I write privately, now, to try to understand myself a little more. It’s not quite the same as writing and sharing with everyone who cares to read it.

I enjoy sharing my mind, my feeling, my everything with people. I am still in the mindset that maybe, just maybe someone out there needs to understand that they are NOT alone.

Did you know that I do want love again?

I can’t remember if I’ve shared that in a private journal, or on this blog, but it’s true.

I know I will never have the same kind of love I had with Mitch, but, I know that I have so much more to give. It bubbles and glops over at times.

I love life. I love everything that comes with living.

I don’t want to have sex with people, just for the sake of having sex.

I want to be with someone who looks at me in a way that says he’s not able to get enough of me. Soak me in, and miss me when I am gone.

My next husband will be kind, yet assertive. Hell, we all know I’m pretty indecisive about things, like where to go for dinner, or what movie to see first. (PICK the scary one, and tacos… oh! or burgers!)

My next will have his shit in order. He will love me for everything I am, and everything I am not.

He will take me by the hand and lead me into a better version of me. He will encourage me to succeed. He will invite me out with his friends. He won’t want to hide me.

My next will almost surely have kids, because I am a sucker for an amazing father.

He will know that I am always here. I won’t leave in the bad times. And he won’t leave me in my bad times, either.

I know it won’t be the same as it was with Mitch, because I know that in the wake of his death, I have learned that you cannot take for granted the things that people do for you. The things that usually go unnoticed or aren’t hyped up, anymore.

Opening doors, and paying for dinner.

Driving us to our dates, rather than meeting places.

To be 37, and widowed, is not for the faint of heart.

This.

Shit.

Sucks.

But I have learned so much. I have learned about me. I have learned about men. I have learned about dating. I have learned that dating sites are the fucking devil.

And most of all, I have learned my worth. Of course, when you’re with someone for half of your life, you just kind of know your worth with that person.

When you are, essentially, abandoned, you’re left questioning your self-worth. You’re left wondering if you’ll ever be good enough for another man, again.

You’re left in this mindset that you’re broken, and no one is going to want to walk into that. I’ve seen the faces of the men I’ve gone on dates with, when I mention that my husband died. It always comes up, because they’ll say something like, “What’s such a great woman, like you, still doing single?” And I am 100% honest, even if I really like a guy. ESPECIALLY if I really like a guy. “Well, sir, my husband died.”

Side-eye.

Deep breath.

Release of air.

“Wow. How? Is it okay if I ask?”

Every. Single. Time.

Then, I never see them again. I’m okay with that. It’s better than them pretending to be okay with me, and then breaking things off down the road.  I am a seriously complicated woman. It’s going to take a hell of a man to understand and accept me.

My next will understand that I’m an absolute wreck 3 days every year. 1/25, 5/24, and 8/18. 4 days if you count the day I put the Christmas tree up. I may want to lay in bed all day and cry. I may want to run 20 miles and then come home and cook enough food for an army. My next will understand.

One day, and I believe this, whole-heartedly, Mitch will shove him in my direction.

My next will have a lot in common with me, but still have his own thing.

My next will love sports, but not be too crazy about them.

My next will love his career, so he doesn’t come home super cranky all the time.

My next will be vulnerable around me, open with his feelings, and let me comb his hair with my fingers as he lays with his head in my lap, to tell me about his shift.

And most importantly. The most important thing about my next. He will not be threatened by my love for my husband, for I have plenty more love to give. He will understand that without my husband, I wouldn’t be the person I am, today. He will not replace my husband, nor will he want to,  but he will pick up where Mitch left off, and that’s okay.

I see him, in my mind’s eye. Not a physical him, but a spiritual him. A beautiful soul. Someone who is the other half of my very soul.

 

MVGoJUstSs+gUd7muom2Gg