What’s weird about this is that I haven’t even entered into the world of dating. And yet I hear from a man I met along the road in my travels, a man who is a widower, a man who is a veteran, who took it upon himself to read something huge into 2 brief meetings over a 2 year period, and, upon realizing that I don’t return his affections, also took it upon himself to judge me as wallowing in my grief and not open to the possibilities of a new relationship, hanging out with those who enable me to wallow in aforesaid grief. He ended it with telling me that he was a good kisser; apparently trying to point out to me that I’m the one losing out.
In so many ways, all of what he said spoke more to his own issues and I didn’t take any of it personally and did respond in a diplomatic manner. Honestly, I don’t know him well enough to take any of it personally but what it did do is bring Chuck more strongly into my life and so I guess I can thank him for that.
Chuck was a strong man, worthy of being a partner to me, a strong woman. I don’t take lightly the FWG that is on the front of my PinkMagic rig. Fucking Warrior Goddess. It reminds me, it requires me, to live this life fiercely. It is what Chuck would expect and it’s what I expect of myself.
If I ever get to the point where I even wish to have another man in my life, he must meet some very high standards. Standards set by Chuck. I know I can’t compare a new man to Chuck; those warnings are posted everywhere by everyone. There is no way in hell, however, that I’ll ever lower my standards from what I had with the man I loved. There are so many qualities required in a man who will be in my life; and yes, they are the qualities that I admired and respected in Chuck. Plus whatever else he might be. Above all, no whiners need apply and I regret to say, anonymous man who emailed me, that what you did was whine because I don’t return the affections you imagined in your mind. You seemed nice when I spoke to you for the very brief time that I did, but there was nothing on which to base a relationship, at least in my mind, and most certainly not this quickly. I may or may not be ready to be in a relationship someday and yes, I’m grieving deeply the death of the man I loved more than my own life. I love him still. I’m still in love with him and even while I’m grieving his absence in my life, I’m creating a life and I’m creating it in such a way that it honors him and the love he left behind for me.
Chuck was the first man ever who stood firmly and strongly in my way when my habit was to steam-roll over men, not because I was a bitch but because I was strong and they weren’t able to see through my shell to who I was inside.
I always pictured Chuck like the student in Tienemann Square who stood solidly in front of the tank, refusing to move. And he came from a place of love, not judgment. I will accept nothing less from anyone, never mind a man to whom I’ll give my love again. I miss Chuck more than ever when things such as this happen. And maybe he was it for me. He might have been my love story. And that’s okay in a way, though my heart is open to the possibility that a second love story could happen.
In a way, yeah, I really do owe this particular guy who emailed me. I’ve been trying so hard to bring a sense of Chuck back into my life and this almost helped me get that sense again, if for no other reason than it brought to my mind what it felt like when he’d wrap his arms around me, and I’d get tiptoe up to lean close into the crook between his neck and shoulder, and inhale his scent. Of how he would take my hand in his to pull me up into his arms so that we could slow dance. In the kitchen. In the hall. Outside in our gardens. On the side of the road in Death Valley as we danced our last dance together before the cancer ate his body.
If I’m never in love again, I have delicious memories of a man who was strong enough to love me. He set a high standard and I will never sell myself short on those standards. And for that, I’ll always thank him~