This is a sad little blog. One that will tell the short version of a long story. It's mood is opposite of what I want this blog to be, but it is a story that I need to tell. Future posts will be happier, funnier. Bear with me through this one.
On February 5, 2014, I started this blog. I had blogged for nearly two years on Caring Bridge about my dear Al's illness and death, then my widowhood experience. In September of 2013, as instructed by Al in our last coherent conversation, I began dating, fell in love, got engaged in January of 2014 and the things I began wanting to share were no longer appropriate for the Caring Bridge site. So I started this one. Barely into my new blog site, my engagement ended. Another heartache. I didn't want to share it. Wasn't ready. So, silence. Now, nearly four months later, the heartache is finally easing and I am, again, moving forward with my life.
In many ways, the heartache of a breakup is worse than the heartache of death. In death, or at least in Al's death, choice was not involved. He fought it!!! Wanted to stay!!! In a breakup, there is choice, someone chooses to end things. What happened doesn't matter, but I cut off contact. He continued to try to reach me. I changed my number. He discovered my new number. The pain of loss was excruciating! The temptation to renew our relationship, extreme! But it would only have ended again. Sometimes love is simply not enough, no matter how great, how deep that love is. And so, I have processed grief on top of grief. Found myself crying - a LOT - over the two men in my life that I have loved and lost.
But it is time. Time to let go of the past. Time to begin again to live. Al wanted me to move forward, remarry, be happy. I didn't think I wanted to remarry. I was wrong. I miss the intimacy that marriage brings. You know, the secret jokes between the two of you; the smiles across a crowded room; the touch of his hand; the beating of his heart as you lay your head on his chest; the shared meals; the shared worship; the arguments; the making up; the teasing; the playing together; the working together; the memories shared by only the two of you; the intimacy that comes from loving and living together.
I miss Al. I wish it was still him. But he is gone from this life, moved into eternal life. I can't have him. Our love is complete. I miss Harlan. I wish it could be him. But it can't. Ever. And so, I began dating again shortly after our break-up. Back up on that horse, as it were! And you know what? It wasn't fun! Dating should be fun! It was hard work! Because I was working at healing! And it has paid off! I have dated Tim from Albuquerque. He was interested in a physical relationship. Moving right along. I developed a friendship with Rick from Amarillo, spent a lot of time
with him. A dear, sweet man! He let me talk and cry, helped me through
the darkest days. But not the one for me and a very sad ending, another
loss. I dated Dale from a small town in NM. He was a lovely man, but not the right one for me. And I wasn't ready for the right one yet. Still friends. I dated Jay from the Amarillo area. Lovely, funny man. Not the one for me. I had one date with - what was his name??? - from Dalhart. Not the one for me. I have met several nice men at local senior citizen and singles dances but didn't find "him". I have talked with loads of men on dating sites - what an experience a dating site is, will revisit that another time - have reported some as scammers, have blocked some who were insistent about pursuing a relationship when I said no thanks, have weeded through profile after profile of men who sent me flirts and messages. What a chore! As I said, it should have been fun, but it was just hard work. Because I compared them all. To men I cannot have.
But now, Michael from Enid. We have been seeing each other very regularly for several weeks. He is a lovely Christian man. And a darn fine kisser! I am beginning to smile again. We met on a site, began corresponding, both did our due diligence - you'd be amazed what you can find out about a person online with just a minimum of information and a picture! After about 3 weeks, we met, went to the symphony. I don't kiss on the first date. Or apparently the second. Or third. But Michael showed me his explanation of Einstein's theory of relativity and stole a kiss in the process. Then politely asked if he could have a real one. My delight at his clever theft prompted a chaste little kiss goodnight and the rest, as they say, is history. We talk and laugh, pray together, see each other often, have met each others' children.
So, here we go. Another new beginning. And maybe a happily ever after ending.