When I met Greg, it was at a housewarming party for mutual friends.
He danced with me, brought me drinks, held my hand and at the end of the night, he walked me to my car and kissed me softly.
Years later, we could remember exactly where we were standing when we first clapped eyes on each other.
It was love at first sight.
It was perfect after feeling rather “meh” about previous boyfriends. I knew I hadn’t loved any of them even when I was with them, but as soon as I met Greg, something in me shifted.
That love was so deep that it changed my soul.
…and something I always appreciated was that I was never in any doubt as to his intentions: he liked me. A lot.
From the first meeting.
…. and he let me know in no uncertain terms.
That made it really easy for me to tell him I loved him within 6 weeks of meeting him.
…and we fell deeper in love each day after
….and then 17 years later, he died.
But our love didn’t.
I’ve spent every day since his death desperately in love with a dead man…..which, as we all know, is both beautiful and frustrating at the same time.
It has taken more then 3 years but I finally felt ready to dip a toe into the proverbial waters again.
For real this time.
I am ready to find someone new even if I will never let go the love I have for Greg.
….and recently I met someone who has made me sit up and think “hey – this one is nice”.
But its not been the same immediate, tumbling-fall into love.
In fact, its nothing more than a new friend: a pen friend.
But talking to a male who is single (widowed) and clever and who gets me is ….. alright.
Its good actually.
It is slow and steady with lots of words over a long distance.
I look forward to his nightly emails and I enjoy talking about my day … my ideas … with someone who is actually interested in what I have to say.
Maybe it will fizzle out, but maybe it will continue. Who knows?
But whatever happens, knowing that I have made a new friend is a good feeling…. and that’s enough for now.
….. the woman inside me has sat up and started paying attention again.