…… raising its head from deep within my heart.
It came out of nowhere, like a sword cutting into me.                          
It came so quick, so deep, so painful that I feel overwhelmed.                   And so I do what I’ve learned to do when I’m overwhelmed, with tears flowing down my face.                                                                                                                                                  
I write.

I was minding my own business this morning.  I fixed myself a cup of coffee, settled down on the sofa and picked up my phone to check my emails, texts and FB thread.                  
And there it was.  
On Facebook.
Out of the blue.                                                                                  
A post by a friend whose husband died the week before Jim.  We haven’t kept up with each other, except through FB, but it was still a shock.  One that I didn’t see coming.  Nor, evidently did a lot of her FB friends. (Which is perfectly fine, in my opinion.)

She’s married.

That one small post took my breath away.  Literally.                          
It truly felt like a knife in the heart.
As I sat there, staring at my phone, trying to control my breathing, trying not to cry, I wondered, “Why?”.
Not why did she get married.
Why do I feel this way?
Where is this deep, stabbing pain coming from?
Why in the world does my heart feel like it’s turning green and then black?
What is going on??

I put my phone down and tried busying myself with other things …… but my brain kept going back to that post.
And my heart kept feeling ugly.

Don’t get me wrong (though that would be very easy to do because I, myself, feel very insane right now) …… I’m happy for her. Very happy.
I’m glad that she’s found love again. She had a wonderful husband who died way too young from a horrific disease, leaving her to raise their 5 children.
Of course, I felt a connection with her.

Where was this pain coming from?

So, here I am …… sitting at my computer, pouring my emotions out onto a keyboard like I have so many times before.
Only this feels a lot like the early days.
The days when all I could do is cry and write.
Write and cry.

I had decided that another marriage is not in the cards for me.
Why?
Well, most of me doesn’t want one.
After being in two relationships I didn’t want to be in another.
And really, it was the second one that did me in.
That’s the one that, to this day, makes me feel nauseous if I get a rare email from an online dating service.
I hate them with a passion and can’t delete them fast enough.
So yeah, there’s that.

I travel a lot.
I do a lot. Sometimes.
I do what I want. Most times.
I live in two cities.
I don’t see a man fitting into this life.

Could this life change …… for the right man?
Yes.
But …… do I want it to?
Ahhh …… there’s the rub.

Do I want to be in another relationship?
Not an easy question to answer.
It’s not just a no.
It’s not just a yes.

If I thought that God would give me a man “like” Jim, I’d jump at that.
I think.
Not like Jim, exactly.
But like Jim in that he’s a Godly man, knows how to treat a woman, knows how a Christian man treats a woman and loves me in spite of myself.

Do I believe that God could do that?
Yes, of course.

But do I believe that God will do that?
No, not at all.
Another rub.

I feel like I had my love.
God gave him to me once and it’s all I get.
I don’t deserve another.
Hell, I didn’t deserve the first one.

So, maybe …… just maybe …… I’m trying to convince myself that I don’t want another love …… because I don’t believe I’ll get another one.
The ol’ “reverse psychology thing”, eh?

I guess most of the time I can convince myself that I’m good alone.
In fact, I’m great.
I can travel, see shows, play with my grandson …… all whenever I want with no one to answer to, consult with, check in with.

And then I read a Facebook post.

And I cry.

So there you go.
No answers really, but I do feel calmer.
And yes, I’m publishing this just as I’ve always published the not-so-pretty-side of widowhood.
Because maybe I’m not the only one out here.
Crying over a Facebook post.
Surprised once again how fast and strong those damn waves can be.
But I’m still standing.
Painfully.