Remember, I told you this blog would be a wild ride. Today, I’m veering back into the present—away from the epistles on oversight and regulation I’ve been steeped in lately—to talk about something stranger than fiction: the kinds of conversations you have when you’re a widow.

 

Not long after he passed, I was asked a question that still makes me blink:

“So… when are you getting back in the dating game?”

Cue Jim Lange, flashing his grin as he introduces the bachelors.

The question came back to the forefront recently when a friend lost her husband. She made an offhand comment, wondering aloud why people seemed so concerned with when she’d start dating again. It hit me—this bizarre social expectation that we must rejoin some parade of romantic possibility, as if grief has a deadline.

Here’s the thing: I never liked the dating game to begin with. Even before I got married, it felt a bit like the show—blind questions, surface impressions, and the gamble that the person you’re drawn to physically might somehow also be emotionally aligned. That’s not a bet I enjoy placing.

 

My answer now is the same as it was in the early days after his death:

No.

 

The emotions wrapped up in any relationship are complex enough. But to dive into another one when I haven’t even fully unraveled the relationship I came out of? That feels impossible. I’m still trying to understand what the hell happened. I’m still peeling off layers.

 

Truth be told, I don’t even have the energy to engage in hookup culture. I’ve never downloaded a dating or hookup app—mostly because I don’t know if I want to wade back into that chaos. If I were to go down that path, I’d probably lean toward something casual, simply because it asks for less emotional investment.

 

But even hookup culture isn’t always safe from emotional residue. And right now? I’m trying hard not to collect any more of that.

 

Let’s be honest—I’m not asexual. I’m just… particular. There have been a few flings, the occasional one-night stand with someone from the past, but nothing more. Yes, I know you’re curious. There it is.

 

If I had to name a fear in all this, it’s probably the one many of us share:

What if we seem compatible at first, only to become strangers once the comfort sets in?

 

For me, that fear is tangled up in something deeper:

I don’t want to do the work again.

The trying, the bending, the giving of pieces of myself.

 

There was a time I loved having a partner. I loved being a husband.

But these days, I’m kind of just enjoying being me.

As always be the kind of person your dog and your mom hope you are.