The dating game

Moving has brought me a new horror. I’m 28 and this will be the first time in my life I will be living alone. There’s no memories in the new apartment except for the foreign memories from my other apartment. The deep hollow loneliness is a hamartia of moving forward. The worst of it is most of the boxes were wedding gifts that were unopened and needed to be assembled.

One of my work friends came over to help me pack up and transport everything. I think it was his first realization of how horrible it is to lose someone young. Having him in the apartment was difficult for me because I haven’t had any visitors outside my family since George died. I was choking back the tears for a good 65% of the move. But when we were packing he was telling me how he’s back with his ex-girlfriend and some other stuff that goes along with the beginnings of a renewed relationship. At that point, I made the declaration I’m never dating again. He narrowed his brow and pursed his lips. And there it was, the awkward silence.

My bereavement counselor always instructs me to worry about the now, not the future. But I cannot help it. I’m used to feeling loved, to having the comfort of having a companion that I can open up to, and I’m sure as hell used to having someone to hold my hand when watching tv at night and a shoulder to fall asleep on. Of course the future is going to creep into my present thoughts of who is going to want a broken and depressed widow? Even my friends don’t want to spend a whole lot of time with me because my situation and my being makes EVERYONE around me uncomfortable. I had the perfect boyfriend, fiancé and husband in George. Everyday was an adventure and we were excited to continue our journey as husband and wife. But instead it all disintegrated in a matter of weeks. I’m sure eventually I’ll find someone suitable, but I can’t imagine anyone will be as ingenuous as George. It was love at first sight. How can I ever find someone who fits so flawlessly in my life?

In the words of Motion City Soundtrack; The future freaks me out.


Our first date/weekend together

About J.

Fitness professional, fitness & nutrition writer, widowed at 28. Writing about getting through grief through self-care, physical activity, and the ​constant feeling of being uncomfortable.
This entry was posted in Uncategorized and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s