The First Date (After My World Exploded)

Earlier this week, I said I was not going to do this.

Earlier this week, I said I was afraid of hurting people.

But when I see people in real life I tell them.

Or at least some people.  

But I have been thinking.

As always.

I have been thinking how Roger would want me to be happy.

(See today's other post).

As one of my old coworkers told me today, Roger would not want me to be shut up in my house, wearing black, and being celibate for a prescribed amount of time.  

And I know this.

I know this because we did talk about it.  

I also know there are others that are similar to me.

People who write to me.

People who comment on this blog.

I know I am not alone.

So... I am writing about some of my "first" experiences.

Not all, but at least the ones in the semi-distant past.

To help those who also need to feel normal.

To know they are not alone.

Nope, not alone at all.

Names will be changed to protect the innocent/guilty.

The first date was a little less than three months ago.

I was starting to feel better.

I was starting to have good days.  

Even good whole weeks.

I was starting to do my hair.

Do my makeup.

Make sure I looked nice.

Wearing cute clothes.

The works.

I went to a friend's birthday party.

I knew most of the people there.

And most of the people knew me.

I had just started practicing not being a widow.  

I had resumed drinking.

At said party, there was a guy, Kevin (again, not his real name), who I have known for about four years.

Mutual friend of many of my friends.

Nice guy.

Right out of a relationship. 

He had met Roger on occasion.  

He knew my situation.

As the night went on, I found him flirting with me.

I found him finding me in rooms.

Sitting next to me.

Finding reasons to touch me.

I found myself flirting.

I was flirting.

It felt nice.

It felt great.

We both stayed until the party was over over.  

He walked me to my car where I could tell he wanted to kiss me.  

But he was afraid.

He probably was freaked out.

We became facebook friends.  

I inquired about him from our main mutual friend.  

We agreed to meet up to experience a hookah bar.  

He drove to my side of town.  

And oh my God, I was nervous.

I have not been nervous on a date in years.

And I mean years and years.  

I was never nervous while dating Roger (because I did not really like him in the beginning).  

And I actually cannot remember the last time I was nervous before a date.  

I called Grace, Roger's sister.  Yep, Roger's sister.  

I discussed outfit.  

I discussed everything.

When I actually got there, it was fine.

Kevin was nice.  

But I also think he was freaked out.

I mean, like, I am a widow.  

My husband like died.  

He had to "get up early the next morning" so the date ended fairly early.

And at the end of the date, he barely hugged me.  

Man, I must be scary.  

Dating lesson #1: I thought going out with someone who knew my situation would be ideal.

Nope, not at all.  People do not know how to handle a young person-who-has-lost-their-spouse.

I have not seen Kevin since.  

Which is not unusual but I hope he knows I do not hold it against him.