We talked about her celebration of life, how she wanted me to talk to God, what she ultimately wanted when I died - to mix our ashes in a bio-urn and have a plant grow from them. We never talked about what I should after her death; dating, finding the next chapter, so on and so forth. She seemed to avoid it while I was concentrating on her care.

Last year, I was talking to a friend who lost her husband 5mos before I lost my heart and soul (2020). Her husband was dying from covid and in his lucid moment, he told her he wouldn't send her any man to comfort her or be her future. I can hear her loneliness when we talk, her wistfulness. She loved him and accepted it.

I know my late wife loved me and wanted me to be happy. I would've liked the spoken "ok" but I'm here without it. In my 1st year of grief, I joined a dating group, to stupidly force myself out of or through my grief. That was a colossal mistake. I wasn't ready. A friend advised to get comfortable being alone before I dated again, so as not to hurt an innocent woman bc of my grief. Same friend insists my late wife will send me someone. The problem? I'm comfortable being alone. I prefer my own company. Socializing in small groups is tolerable but in large settings, I'll leave. Even in certain small settings, I still prefer isolation. No noise, no meaningless chatter, no hoops to jump through.

My widow friend asked me recently, if I were to look for my Ch2, what would I want? I want what my late wife gave me: an easy friendship where we could talk about anything without judgment, a deep soulful intimacy where safety and security was included, not the physical but where we seemed to just fit into each other where I ended and she began, someone to laugh with and not just watching TV but laugh at and with one another, being silly together. My widow friend paused and said, you want your late wife but you'll never get her again. Yeah, I want my late wife back. I don't want to settle, I want what I want and if I can't get that, I'd rather be alone.

I'm sorry, fam, when it's late and I can't sleep, the words just seem to spill out. I'm usually not this verbose.