I'm going to say things here that most women my age won't say out loud. But I've learned that honesty is the only thing worth offering, so here I am. I'm a widow. I loved deeply, I lost deeply, and I spent time figuring out whether I had another love left in me. Turns out I do. And not just love, I have wanting left in me too. The kind that wakes you up in the middle of the night. The kind that makes you smile at your phone like an idiot because someone said something that hit you right between the ribs. I want to be touched again. Not just casually, I want to be touched like I matter. Like my body is something he's been thinking about all day. I want hands that know how to be gentle and firm in the same breath. I want a mouth on my neck that makes my eyes close. I want to feel that ache, the good one, the one that starts in your chest and travels down until your whole body is paying attention.
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