Warning: This post contains a lot of dark humor.  If that is going to bother you, then you should just stop reading.  If you ignore this advice and this post pisses you off, that’s okay.

I just don’t want to hear about it.

That previous statement, my friends, is called honesty.

Now any of you reading this that new Bryon and were lucky enough to be friends with him on social media, then you would know every Valentine’s Day he posted this meme on Facebook.

He was a romantic one.

But on Valentine’s Day, I usually take the time to reflect on that one thing that makes Valentine’s Day, well, Valentine’s Day.

My first Widowed Valentine’s Day, I spent the afternoon at my two-year-old daughters class party.

My second Widowed Valentine’s Day, I reflected on the fact that Bryon sent me a sign through the form of a Vagisil ad and the fact that I have baggage.

My third Widowed Valentine’s Day, I was on strike and you did not get a blog post.  I needed my space at that time.  It wasn’t you.  It was me.

So here I am – Widowed Valentine’s Day #4.

The bummer is that I don’t get to tag along to my daughter’s school party because she’s in kindergarten now.

We made Valentine’s with glow sticks.

(Trust me, it seemed like a good idea two weeks ago).

I know of at least one other classmates that has tattoo Valentines.   Sounds like I am missing one wild party.

So it’s Widowed Valentine’s Day #4 and I have been reflecting.  Well, reflecting on Valentine’s Day and also obsessively watching the news of the Coronavirus and thinking about the worst possible outcome.  Because I am fun like that.

So where am I?

Well, I am still single. Much to my daughter’s dismay.  She is trying to marry me off.  Girl wants a Dad.

Note: I would have to date a guy for a very long time before he ever meets her.  I once had a friend who was a single mom and she dated around (and by “date around” I really mean “slept around”) and would parade these men around her daughter.  I remember her daughter asking one of these men if they were going to be her new dad.  That scene has always stayed with me.

If you have been a longtime reader of my blog, you would know I have dabbled in the dating apps, here and there.

I have never had much luck.

This fall I was talking to one guy.  Charlotte and I referred to him as “Patriots Guy.”

So I pretty much narrowed it down to almost any man in New England.

Then I started to feel red flags.

Since I tend to attract narcissists, I ended that one quickly.  It was so bizarre.  It was like he was trying to pin me into a relationship before even going on a date.  Sorry, Dude.  I know my worth and I am  worth a steak dinner.

Or Mexican.  Tacos are good.

I felt those spidey feelings.  It wasn’t even a relationship and I needed space.  It dawned on me that I would have to someday tell this guy my story (there are people who don’t read this blog.  Shocking, I know!) and I didn’t want to tell him my story.  Not because I didn’t want to share my story.  I just didn’t want to share my story with him.

I don’t know any of this dating etiquette bullshit.  I wanted to ghost Patriots Guy but Charlotte said I had to “break up” even thought were weren’t even dating.

Eff me.

So I messaged him.  I told him that I just wasn’t interested in continuing our communication.  He then wrote back and said that was crazy and he felt so comfortable, yada, yada, yada.   I didn’t respond.  Since I knew he received the message, I blocked communication.

Done.

I took a break for a bit.

Then I tried again.  Around Christmas.

Now I like Seinfeld.  There are even a few references in this blog post.

Seinfeld was the show that 1990’s Kerry and 2000s Kerry could compare everything in life too.

Eventually, How I Met Your Mother Filled that position.

Every situation in life can be linked to an episode of How I Met Your Mother including….

The Dead Spouse!

This time I stuck with it for a little longer.  I tried to persevere.  But men around here must not be attracted to me.

This man dazzled me with his conversation skills.

Now to be clear- from the moment I saw the first message of “Hi”, I made the decision that I was only going to return the level of energy I was receiving.

So now I am on break again.

Am I discouraged?  A little.

I miss having a person, but I don’t want a man for the sake of having a man.

This dating app silliness has me reflecting on what I lost.

Not just the things I liked about him, like the fact that he was intelligent, funny, stylish, masculine.

I miss our bond.

I don’t get jealous when I see married couples, but sometimes my heart aches a bit.  I miss my husband, but sometimes I feel that it has been so long that I don’t wouldn’t know how to be part of a couple anymore.

Most married couples just seem so carefree and non traumatized to me.

Even if I managed to partner up again, I have lived through a very traumatic experience.  I am going to worry if that man would die.

My brain kind of wants to make a morbid coronavirus joke here because I am a twisted person, but I also know that so much is unknown about the coronavirus and it could potentially cause a pandemic so I am not going to make coronavirus joke here.  That would be in poor taste.

For the record, spellcheck does not recognize coronavirus.  Just in case you were wondering.

I have ADHD.  Can you tell?

It’s also 2 am and way past my bedtime.

So I am going to get to my point.

My marriage ended through Bryon’s illness and death.  It broke my heart.

But I can also say that I know what it is like to feel the love of something who fighting to stay alive so they can be with you.

It gives me a whole new appreciate for what we had and even though I miss Bryon, I am grateful for the love he gave me, up until his last minute on Earth and beyond.

Maybe someday I will meet my Hometown Hallmark Hunk with whom I will discover what it feels like to love again.

Until then, the official status of my mood is “eh”.