Single Sucks

I've been on my own for almost a year. I'm not a fan. I miss every kind of intimacy. I've been told that I should stay single. It picks my ass so it's probably true. (pause to consider deleting that because I'm resisting the shit out of it. soldier on.)

Some people don't want me to date out of loyalty to Dave (my dead husband in case you're new here). To those people, I comfortably say we can agree to disagree.

From the beginning of my widowhood, strangers and intimates alike have been saying that I need time alone, that I need to get comfortable on my own. Do I though?! Is that even possible?!

A few strangers have said that I need to learn to love myself. As far as I can tell, I love myself. As far as I can tell, loving myself doesn't preclude also loving someone else. It doesn't replace my desire for love and intimacy with another. I'm a big talker but even I would prefer the occasional "uh huh" from another person. And keepin' it real, my bedside drawer is no longer sufficient to satisfy my more fundamental needs.

Those a little closer to home have said that I need time to grieve, that Dave is still taking up most of the intimate space in my life. This hits a little closer to home because there's some truth to it. But this isn't my first rodeo. I grieved the end of my first marriage while beginning my second. There is space in my life, in my mind, body and soul, for grief and for love. I'm comfortable with that. But I won't deny that my grief will be part of the package deal for any brave soul who signs up to date me.

And then there's the whispering of my own wisdom that my longing for an intimate partner is laced with desperation. That the fact that singleness is so deeply uncomfortable means there is likely something for me to learn by gutting it out until I'm no longer gutting it out. But honestly, I might trade the learning for love and comfort. Call me weak. Guilty as charged.


Photo is me as a kid. Gotta reclaim her sass to brave the modern dating scene.