Another in the shitty club.
Not sure if my current social isolation is due to fears I'm desperate for a man, any man, or if it's just that being a widow equates to turning into some kind of weird two headed monster that people don't know how to deal with.
I mean, a major bereavement, especially when it's the love of your life, does do strange things to you. It's hard to be stoic and resilient about it when your entire life has been turned upside down emotionally , practically, financially etc. And anything you do is under scrutiny.
I've recently discovered that one or two people actively "stepped back" and applied a tough love approach for my own good. Which, given that I'm 55 and have weathered other storms felt just a tiny bit patronising - but they meant well so I'm not taking it to heart.
I'm down to about 6 people I can truly trust or rely on and they're people whose lives aren't easy either, so we all give each other loads of leeway when our "social nicety" capacity is compromised.
As for wanting other people's husbands - err, no ta. My life is sodding complicated enough thanks. I've had two overtures from younger single men and as I'm not dead yet I contemplated no strings attached liaisons, but when it came down to it they ran screaming for the hills anyway. Bit mean really, I thought. Felt like a safe scratching post for them to practise their flirting skills or something.
Honestly, two years in more or less and I'm buggered if I understand people any more. My dark and cynical humour wonders if I should have just thrown myself on the funeral pyre and saved everyone alot of bother. Or rather just popped myself into the grave at the committal rather, as it wasn't a cremation.
As it is I'm resigned to being the slightly embarrassing loose end. So I slap my "happy in a long suffering, stoic way" face on and try not to be a bother.
My cat really loves me though.