I don’t really understand why I feel so low right now. It will be a year next month since my wife passed away, and the reality of it still feels very close.
After the first months of deep sadness and loneliness, I began to feel a lot better although I felt lonely and down. The last month I’ve started to wonder if I should continue living this way or think about trying to finding a companion/partner, someone to share the rest of my life with. I know in that I could never replace my wife, and I never would want to. But I also feel she wouldn’t have wanted me to spend the rest of my life feeling lonely and down.
Since I allowed myself to think about moving forward, though, I’ve been struggling. I find it hard to sleep, and I wake in the night with my thoughts racing. I start telling myself I’m a terrible person for even considering meeting someone else. It feels like I’m somehow betraying my wife.
I also worry that even if I did meet someone, it might be unfair on them. I would hate to begin a new relationship while still thinking so much about my wife. It wouldn’t feel right, and I wouldn’t want anyone I meet to feel as though they were competing with my past wife. It would feel unfair to involve someone else when my heart and mind are still so tied to my wife.
I feel torn between two emotions — the love and loyalty I still feel for my wife, and the need for companionship and closeness. I don’t know what I should do.
Part of me wonders if I should just carry on as I am, even though it feels lonely. Another part of me thinks about moving forward, but then the guilt returns.
If I do try to move on, I don’t know how to let go of this feeling of guilt and betrayal. I still love my wife, and I always will. I just don’t know how to balance that love with the hope of not being alone for the rest of my life.
I just wanted to say that I really understand how you feel.
I lost my partner Marek almost a year ago after 21 years together. We were together since high school. We were never married, but we lived as husband and wife for most of our lives. Next year I will be turning 40, and despite it being 11 months, I am still trying to find my way and rebuild my life.
I recognise so much of what you’re feeling. There are moments when I try to accept being on my own and even learn to like it. But at the same time, I sometimes think that I am still young and maybe one day I could meet someone. And when those thoughts come, I immediately feel guilty like I’m somehow betraying Marek. Because of that, I’m not trying to actively look for anyone. I feel that if something is meant for me, it will come into my life naturally. I don’t believe that thinking about companionship means we love our partners any less. It just means we are human and we miss having someone beside us.
You are not a terrible person for feeling this way. You are someone who loved deeply, and still does. I think the hardest part is learning that love doesn’t disappear it just changes shape. And maybe, with time, there is space in our hearts to carry that love while also allowing something new to exist alongside it, not instead of it. Be gentle with yourself. There is no right or wrong timeline for any of this.
If I could give some hope with my experience,after my wife of 55 yrs( and deeply loved) died I had exactly had those thoughts, I joined this site and eventually started talking to one particular lady,we found out we had a lot in common, and after many months decided to meet, and although a distance of nearly 200 miles between us we met up,we do have lots in common and laugh, holiday and enjoy life, we never compare past partners although they do enter our conversations sometimes,we have been together over a year now, I spend most of my time at hers with regular trips back to see my family, both our families are happy and content for us,my view is loneliness feeds the guilt in us, I wish you all the best in whichever road you decide to take.
I don’t think there is anything to be gained from spending the rest of life sad and alone.
I am reminded of the two wolves story, the ones that live inside us and fight to gain control.
One is sad, lonely and bitter, full of regret and misery.
The other is hopeful, grateful for the past, and still has love to give.
Whichever one you feed gains control.
When you have a second child you don’t stop loving the first one. Why should loving another partner be any different?
Harsh? Perhaps I do sound harsh.
But I am happy, because I found love again.
I wish the same for anyone else that wants to.