Dear Richard,
My dear wife died two years ago. We had 40 blissful years together. We could not have children, so we invested all our time in each other. Our social life was busy, but the awful quiet since her death has taught me that most of ‘our’ friends were hers. I was comfortable in my solitude, but I missed physical affection (not necessarily sex).
Then, three months ago, I had an eye test. The optician, whom I know distantly, said it was almost lunchtime and asked if I would like to join him. I was surprised but said yes. It turned out to be great fun. At the end, he passed me a note with a phone number and said, ‘Call me.’ It took me a week of great internal conflict, but I did call him.
Six weeks, several lunches and many chatty walks later, he led me to his bed. I am 64 and he is 28. We have not had sex, but the cuddles and affection and eye contact astonish me. Just holding him, I am awash with pleasure and completely at peace. I think about him constantly. When my phone pings, I reach for it hoping the message is from him. If it is, my heart soars. He is single, but he is the same age as my nephews.
I have no idea what is happening to me. I have never found men attractive. Am I responding to any sign of romantic interest because I am lonely and/or vulnerable? Am I using him? Or he me? What on earth would my wife think?
– Anon, Lancs
Dear Anon,
Love and romance are notoriously difficult to analyse. The late Barry Cryer used to say that trying to analyse a joke was like dissecting a frog: ‘Painful, not funny and the frog dies.’ So it is with matters of the heart, especially when love and desire are tangled up in grief.
So I hesitate to try and reduce your new romance to its constituent parts. Why not simply accept the relationship for what it is? It makes you happy – very happy – as it seemingly does him.
What would your wife think? Well if, as you say, she loved you, surely she would be happy for you – if perhaps as surprised as you are that you are in a same-sex relationship after a lifetime’s heterosexuality.
I do wonder about that part, though. Perhaps you were bisexual all along but were so contentedly married that the other side of your sexual identity lay dormant. Now that you’re open to affection and love again, you are simply responding to a man in a way that until now you didn’t consider a possibility.
Don’t fret about the age gap. What counts is that you find each other attractive, good company and fun to be with. And while you’re clearly in a potentially vulnerable position, it doesn’t sound as if this guy is pushing you to move too fast.
My advice? The kind of mixed motto my grandmother was fond of twisting together. Count your blessings, and gather ye rosebuds while ye may. Live life in the present, Anon.
