fat eyes

from crying.  and they burn.  I saw my young, good looking neighbor out with his littlest daughter and his dogs last night...he helped reign in Sammy after he got out and we talked...I actually asked him if he and his wife have any single guy friends.  I actually told him about my recent reconnect with a male member from my past who told me he fantasized about me for years after we broke up.  My neighbor confirmed that something like that would get you thinking about things again.  I need that confirmation. 

One of the many annoying things here is that just because I KNOW certain things, doesn't mean I can truly embrace them or do them.  I know that it is far too early to think about dating.  But I am so lonely, all I can seem to think about is flirting and how to someday reach out.  I know that I am all those ages and things I have been and done and seen, but it doesn't mean I can choose to hang onto the strength part whenever I need it. 

I remember when John and I got engaged, I wanted to run around yelling it to everyone so everyone would know.  I feel the same now.  It seems so messed up and wrong to me that everyone goes on with their own lives and issues and drama and dreams when he is gone. I want to tell every person I see that I am a widow and that every move I make and smile that tips my lips is a mini miracle; that each time I snap at my kids has loss at the center of it right now, so if I over react, well, too bad. 

I have been thinking...It seems that everything is cyclical...desire, loneliness, company, joy, anger, anxiety...it is strange to think that we believe, on some level, that one thing or another should last forever. 

Tonight I have found blogs about widows and dating and sex and loneliness...and the crazy thing is that I really believed that I was alone and unique and I felt bad about my feelings...sometimes I love the internet...okay, most of the time...

Some days, I don't know if I can get out of bed.  And soon enough, school will start and time will spin out of control.  I will get up, regardless of how I feel.  I am still fighting every day to remind myself I am beautiful.  I fight to remember I am strong, even as I cry and struggle for focus and function.  I want to laugh and love and play and hope and flirt...I will never be able to be whole in all the ways I was before.  And humans are like that.  Each loss takes something away from us.  And no loss can render us so broken that we cannot love again.  We can always choose to close ourselves off, to find hope only within, or to shun hope all together. 

Not me.  And I know I am not alone.