Anyone who has been in any type of relationship has talked about it.
“It” being… anything. Whether it was dinner plans, a future vacation or where we’re going that day… The talk about “it” could mean many things.
And I don’t mean that every day decisions like a meal should be a big deal, but you ask, you inquire, it’s not a big deal but there’s a response. It’s everyday conversations. But yet, in a small way, a short way… you talk about it. You plan. Sometimes you don’t talk because you know each other too well, you just know.
Now that I’m a widow, I don’t just know. I have no one to get any type of feedback from, even in the smallest of scenarios.
Whether I want to plan a meal and make something like eggplant parmigiana, or a chicken dish, or a salad or when I want to just ask… “Honey, what are you hungry for?” There is no response.
I’m the only one to respond and sometimes as much as everything sounds great, in the end, is it really enough to satisfy just me?
I’m hungry for it but after I eat it… it’s like… blah blah blah. There are no critiques, no “This was really good,” or “Next time let’s try this.”
It’s just… it is what it is.
That’s the end of the talk in my head.
Was it good? Could I have made it better? I don’t know.
We spend so much of our lives trying to improve what we do to make each other happy and to see other people enjoy themselves in a good meal, or any type of experience, because that makes us happy. And now, as we continue to live without their input on our everyday lives, we have to somehow find satisfaction in what we continue to do.
I’ll never forget one such instance – I made potato salad from scratch. It was so good, Steve said. It made me blush. We were still dating at the time. Every time I made it going forward, Steve reminded me of that first time I made it for him… and I blushed all over again. Something so simple and silly. I miss those times.
And after a year, the struggle is still real. I keep talking to Steve. I ask him all the time for his input.
I’ve learned to sleep on any major decisions, as well as his side of the bed. I run ideas by our kids.
But, in the end, it’s me talking and making the decisions.
So, I’ll keep talking… and talking… until it’s time for a decision. I know Steve will somehow guide me with some pros and cons. I can hear him. I know I’ll always hear him. But, like in any relationship, will I always listen? Hmmm…
So the next time you hear someone talking to themselves, make a note, that sometimes someone they know is listening.