So here I am in my mid-40s, widowed, and wondering how I got to be so old… yet I’m not resigned to spending the rest of my life alone, becoming a modern-day Miss Havisham with 100 cats.
Last night I made the mistake of watching No Strings Attached. Romantic comedies depress the f*ck out of me. It always turns out ok in the end, they end up together. So totally unrealistic.
Sometime I feel like this is my theme song. my late husband and I used to call each other weirdo. then we would say “but you’re my weirdo” … I just don’t think I’m going to find someone else who gets me the way he did…
The irony of it all is that he was a terrible husband. I loved him with every fiber of my being, but that’s the truth. He was a drug addict who was never able to shake his demons. There was so much light in him, hidden amidst the dark, I always hoped the light would win. But it didn’t. He was an amazingly talented musician, but couldn’t ever keep it together long enough to make something of his talent. He couldn’t hold a job, so I was the one who had to keep a roof over our heads and food on the table. We didn’t have kids, which was really a good thing, he would not have been a good father. In his defense, he had no role model growing up, his stepdad was an abusive alcoholic, and his mom is complete nutjob.
So, given how chaotic our life together was, in some ways I am better off now, I don’t have to worry about where he is or what he’s doing. I don’t have to take care of him, just me and our elderly kitty. I’m not broke as soon as I get paid, because the money isn’t being spent on drugs. But that doesn’t mean I don’t miss him. Every night I go to bed alone, when I wake up in the middle of the night, there’s no one there.
He’s only been gone a little over 4 months. It may seem like I’m looking for someone too soon. But I have accepted that he is gone, and I have to get on with my life. I can’t just curl up in a ball and cry all day. The rent has to be paid, the cat has to be fed. He told me he wanted me to find someone else after he was gone. It’s weird, because I know he didn’t mean to die, but somehow he must have know something, because the night before he died we had a long discussion about all kinds of things, he even gave me his passwords for his email accounts and facebook. Spooky.