I was going to memorialize Gary’s Facebook page on the 4th anniversary of his death. I needed to do it today, instead. I have been reading and understanding a lot more about depression, my own and that of others. I can’t wait to do this anymore. I need to move forward in an appreciable way.
(this newest relationship has actually been since October 14th of last year; this relationship has allowed me to cultivate the strength to do this today💜💜)
Additionally, I would rather it say “in open relationships” because I am in open relationships. Come on, facebook, open up to polyamory. You allow my relationship status to say “in an open relationship”, but not give the option for multiple, for polyamory. I am #polyamorous, it is not a lifestyle it is my nature, it is who I am.
So I fixed it-ish, made the first shot here my cover photo.
sweet man. you dearest, sweetest man. sweet and seeing my sweetness nothing hidden, not even in the beginning because friends don’t lie Friends don’t hide things from each other. I don’t want ours to be the kind of relationship where we hide things from each other. no matter what they are. there is nothing you can tell me that I will not hear. you only have to tell me. it’s all I ever ask for.
there is so much to talk about, always. so much to share, to discuss.
it is this part that I miss the most, the talking the hashing over the intricate and meandering conversation.
I love listening to the sound of your voice, your passion obvious and enchanting as we talk about everything, and nothing
where did you come from? (out of nowhere, out of time) you are at the same approximate place in space and time I have proof that time travel exists. I do. It does.
His time ran out. Mine began.
Ours is..? Ours is beginning.
I have learned so much along the way here To you, to here, to now. I have learned enough to be able to show you the way for it seems you are ready to learn.
I just had a date with someone I met at a party last week. A sex party. That one of my lovers brought me to as his hotwife. To share. I had sex with him there. Twice. In front of my lover. With my lover.
He looks like my dead husband, I discovered as I saw him in natural light for the first time. I stopped still, eyes wide as I took in the similarities the differences. Enough differences that my shock couldn’t have been very apparent. The chemistry though, oh! So familiar So smooth. And young, so much younger a tenderness, surprising and genuine. I took him into me, feeling his sameness not wanting to and desperately needing to knowing this was a last chance that I would have to be honest and confess. So I did. And I did. And it was so pure, so true. Cleansing.
I feel, lighter.
I have some interesting feelings about this. Complex, simple. Untangled.
The juxtapositions of today are incredible. Eighteen months ago today I was sitting in a waiting room at Westchester Medical Center with my mother and one of my best girls, knitting, while doctors were feverishly working to save the life of my husband. They wouldn’t be able to. I have Become The Salty Widow, much as The Velveteen Rabbit Became.
Today, a year and a half later, I sat with a wonderful man in this lovely window seat at Kurzhal’s Coffee and began to teach him how to knit (at his request six months prior) in and around coffee and conversation. A normal coffee date. Normal conversation. Things that normal people in a relationship do. Everyday things, out in the sunshine.
I didn’t think that I could be this happy again. I didn’t think I deserved to feel this way again, for someone to feel this way about me. Someone who I’ve told some of my darkest secrets and has not only embraced me, but has promised to only use my confidence in him to help. Someone who is mindful of triggers. A careful, caring person. An interested, interesting person. A partner who wants the same things I do, not just in one area but all. Someone who meets me on every level, again, with feeling.
I can, I do, and he does.
Compersion is an amazing thing. Communicating fears and feelings only helps, only makes things better, easier. The last year that Gary was alive we did a lot of work, a lot of talking about what made us us; what we meant to each other, what we needed, what we wanted from and for each other. The only people outside our marriage who knew are those directly involved, and my backup, my besties beyond besties. My best girls.
Thank you, my love, for setting the bar high. Thank you, my girls, for reminding me to keep it there.
The Salty Widow 