Fun is Married

I crumpled today, twice, simply because I miss my husband and I can’t believe all of the sadness that has filled the past three years. My tears, today, were ones of complete resignation. I felt weakened and tired. I miss him. I miss just hanging out with him, sharing waffle cone ice cream on the front steps, laughing in bed, garnishing tuna wrap plates with daisies and all of that special stuff that went on back then.

I wish I could lose the pressure I feel to find another man. It’s my own pressure. I’m doing it to myself. I am panicked about getting older and I’m trying to find a man who will want to be with an older woman. I’m only 39, though. I’m not “older” yet, am I?

If only I could forget all about men. I keep trying, but I keep missing Chris and wishing I could create something similar for myself.

The way I feel these days, I’ll never even come close to finding anybody whose company I can enjoy as much as I enjoyed Chris’.

There have been a couple of men I have developed crushes on, but at my age, the men I meet are married. So was I. Was. The guys I keep meeting are married because they’re fun. So maybe the only men out there that are still availalbe are actually sub-par.

Sometimes I wish I could meet a widower who is fun to be around because he would understand how I feel and I would understand how he feels. We could help each other.

I’m going to stop writing now. I’m obviously in a negative place.

Tomorrow will come and I’ll feel much better.

Shneed