Laughrodesiac
I thought I knew grief by now, going on 10 months of it. But a surprise recently hit me smack dab in my netherregions.
It is called ‘Widow’s Fire’, and it is a shocking, 250 mph Formula 1 surge fueled by the sex drive of a 16 year old in the body of an adult who lost their person. This sensual ache is in sharp contrast to regular me from the outside. As people continue to look at me like a sad puppy star of one of Sarah McLaughlin’s SPCA commercials, my spirit gives me hope that there is a future ahead where I can experience and appreciate pleasure in my life again.
I had a two week experience on Bumble: not to date, but to assess the scene, look at trends in the strategy and sociology of it. All in all, I found online shopping for a guy to be really odd. Being “liked” by someone clicking on the checkmark shape may not mean a ‘like’ at all - it can mean they found you beguiling, or they had a finger spasm swipe error, or they’re in an active hunt for a willing sex partner for their throuple/ ENM (ethical non-monogamy) lifestyle, or simply curiosity to see if you are normal and if you will hit the ball back. I kept looking for Mike or Mike-ish guys. All I found were guys who looked like they were in a ‘Just for Men’ hair commercial, a Viagra commercial or on their way home from the VFW after having a beer with their friend Vern.
Early on in Bumbleland, I noticed a picture of a guy totally owning a goofy costume in his profile picture. When someone boldly and fully owns something ridiculous, it demonstrates humor, confidence and silliness that I really enjoy. I gave him a compliment, which I did not realize would be translated as a ‘like’ to the compliment-receiver by the algorithm. These platforms do have people who look like nice human beings. Sharing a complement is something I do in real life, without suggestiveness of romantic interest. So I did it here, free of bow chicka wah wah.
Keep in mind, the last few years have been absolutely, gut-wrenchingly brutal, watching Mike melt away from ALS, and our family trying to function in a world without him. All that is about as light and breezy as euthanasia. Despite the pain of it all, I would not have been anywhere else, but by his side and with our kids.
Long story short, I have been late night texting with this guy for a few weeks. You know when a baby laughs for the first time, its like they’re surprised at this crazy, delicious thing happening? That is how this mid-grief, life-returning laughter feels. I have actually had ridiculously fun giggling fits at hilarious things, and my heart feels light. We’ve had great conversations and its made quiet, long evenings way more fun and life giving. But here’s the deal. I truly believe there is such a thing as a laughrodesiac. The more I laugh, the more alive, playful and spirited I feel. And yes, to my absolute shock, my body has become absolutely alive with desire when a man, who I know is interested in me romantically, makes me laugh. My gonads rev up and my judgement appears to go on vacation as I surrender to genuine laughter. Laugh-ro-desiac.
This feeling is very different than the sobbing, grief storms I have had. I’m open to whatever life throws at me. And at this particular chapter, my aliveness has been unlocked by an overweight, middle aged customer service worker who is a great conversationalist with a solid sense of humor. Is love in the air? No, it is not. But what is on the table is the question if meeting “Mr Right Now” in person is a reasonable, mammal affirming, life decision - an insane, irresponsible one - or both. I am under no pressure, and this has not been discussed as of yet so, this choice is TBD.
This guy is the first person in my adult life with whom I have been able to have a conversation, and concurrently flirt with clever humor along with a little cat and mouse action. Mike and I had stopped flirting with each other, even though we laughed with each other. We were playful, but not when it came to intimacy. Despite our long, happy marriage, this was one of the ingredients that were missing, and we both would have loved it. Since I never flirted in that way with anyone outside my marriage, its not until I became a widow that I realized that this is available to me in Chapter 2.
This is truly one of the first things about widowhood that does not suck.
I have zero ideas on how to neutralize the effects of being laughrodesiaxed. In the privacy of my own home, talking remotely with someone who appears to be kind and most definitely is funny, is good medicine. I also clearly see my raw vulnerability, and understand logistical meeting and sexual safety factors to consider, if I were to choose that option. This essay is not about listing all the ways to be careful or proving to the audience that the choice I make should be acceptable to all. This is simply a story about how opportunities, surprises and decisions present themselves to us in our lives.
As a living being having had a front row seat to Mike’s ALS life and his death, frankly I am ready return to the land of the living and sensual pleasures. I wear soft and soothing fabrics because cashmere and silk feel fantastic on my skin. Disppearing into the sensation of the wind on my face is a gift. I smell the incredible aroma of my coffee and cardamom before I make my morning brew. The detail of the clouds are a fresh, daily miraculous painting. I absorb life with all my senses.
And while many humans on online apps are there for a hook up, I am looking for meaningful connection. This could look like a bit of playful, articulate friendship with a human being who feels easy to be around and familiar. I will not lie, a blossoming dose of naughty sensuality when the time is right and the right foundation would be intoxicating and welcome.
Who knows what I will find, but right now, this particular guy is igniting my life with playful words and fun, sans physicality….yet :). I cannot tell you how awesome this lands to me - as is.
Maybe my internal, sensual fire is temporary. Instead, I see it as my chance to figure out how to live like a sensual human being, enjoying all the senses, rather than simply living in my brain. I am grateful to be alive in all the ways humans can be, despite the distracting intensity of it all.