I don’t want to be lonely

I was watching one of my favorite movies, “Six Days Seven Nights” with Anne Heche and Harrison Ford. I found myself laughing out loud when well-endowed Angelica (Jacqueline Obradors) stood half naked in her bungalow trying to seduce a grieving yet secretly hopeful Frank (David Schwimmer).

“It’s like after a funeral” she said. “Everybody has sex.” If that’s true, perhaps I should visit a few random funerals? I’m joking, of course. Sort of.

I’ve recently learned of the term “widow’s fire”. According to the Google, it is the uncontrollable desire for sex following the death of your partner.

Mine is more like a “widow’s ember”.

Gone are the days snuggling on the couch listening to music or watching movies. No forehead kisses. No one to say “I love you” anymore. No more hand in the small of my back leading me through a crowd. No more gratuitous boob grabs. No more dancing in the kitchen. Gone is big spoon little spoon. No more good morning or good night kisses. All of that was ripped away in a moment’s notice.

Over four hundred days without hugs where the sigh that ensued always felt like my soul was escaping into his.

I’ve written about this before, and I know it’s uncomfortable for people to read. It was uncomfortable to write about the first time. But now these feelings have become part of who I am. Some days the loneliness is just too much to take, so I write about it. If it makes you squirm find something else to read.

I don’t know if I’m ready to be in a relationship, but it would be so nice to wander while holding someone’s hand. I don’t want to have sex with anyone, but I’d love to hug a big, strong man for two straight minutes (not a family member or co-worker). He’d have to be able to handle the flood of tears that would certainly follow.

Do me wrong
Do me right
Tell me lies, but hold me tight
Save your goodbyes for the morning light
But don’t let me be lonely tonight

James Taylor sang this song to me yesterday. He understands. And just like everything else in my life, I’ll figure out how to navigate this desire, this loneliness, this ember. Hopefully before it becomes a five-alarm fire.