Widows Make Better Lovers: Living In The Moment

Mama's First LouboutinsImage by califmom via Flickr

A group of young widow friends and I were chatting on Twitter last night about widows making better lovers because we live in the moment due to our experiences. The group of us agreed that having watched our loved ones pass suddenly or, in my case, not too suddenly, but at such a young age, makes you appreciate life and love in a different way—with abandon, even.

All I know about myself is that I no longer put off the joyful experiences for another day. I eat the foods I crave. I travel to the places I want to see. I meet the people I want to meet. I drink wine in the bathtub, when the mood strikes. I dance like EVERYBODY is watching, because I love it. I'll ask for what I want, but I don't like repeating myself. And I share my life with people who are smart, funny, interesting, healthy, functional, people. Things that don't fit that mold, don't fit in my life. It's too potentially short of a ride to live it any other way.

Does that mean I don't look toward the future? No. I do. Does it mean I'm not reflective? No. I am. I just don't live in those places.

In practicality, in means that I will almost always accept an invitation to spend time with someone over doing laundry. Okay, I will ALWAYS accept that invitation. Let's be honest.

Um, better example: the good bottle of wine isn't saved for special occasions, it's for now. Other things that shouldn't be saved for special occasions: blow jobs, high heels, sexy underwear that matches your bra, pedicures, bubble baths, sunsets, eating breakfast in bed, sleeping naked, naps, morning sex, midday sex, all-day sex, driving down the coast in a convertible, sushi, kissing your lover on the neck from behind for no reason, watching dumb movies just because they're dumb, kissing in the rain, making-out like you did when you were in high school...for so long you think you just can't take it any longer, but you feel like you might melt at the same time, kissing her hip, her ankle, his wrist, holding hands while you drive.

Those things. Don't save those. You might not get to do them tomorrow.