Sex After Loss: The First Time After the Last Time

“HOLY SHIT!!! I’M REALLY GOING TO HAVE SEX!!!’

This was the thought that kept popping up over and over again, on a constant loop, as we rolled around in my bed. It was just so unbelievable to me. I couldn’t grasp that it was actually ME that was half-naked and making out while practically running down the hall to get to the bedroom. I kept thinking maybe some random fire alarm would go off for no reason, or someone would knock at the door, or my roommate would come home randomly from being out of town for the weekend.

When you first become widowed, you literally think your life is over. And it is. Well, the life you knew is over. Because that person is no longer here, so you can’t ever get that life back again. And for a long time, you can’t really picture having any other version of life, or ever even wanting one or caring. So to be in the midst of the throws of passionate and fun and hot sex about to take place, and to suddenly realize that not only are you NOT going to get all weird and emotional and depressed during this – but that you will actually REALLY enjoy it – is pretty goddamn awesome. It’s a “holy shit!” kind of moment. Or, at least it was for me.

“There is a human man in my bedroom right now who ISN’T my husband, and he is looking at my naked and old and NOT skinny body, and he isn’t running away in terror. How is this a real thing?” 

When you’re an overweight girl to begin with, like I am, you get pretty used to rejection, or just plain old apathy. When you’re fat AND widowed, it doesn’t exactly do wonders for your self-esteem. All you can think about is who the hell is going to want ME ever again? Why would anyone find THIS desirable? And yet, here someone is, in my room, right this minute, and he is somehow turned on, by ME. I kept expecting him to bolt out of there any minute, make up some excuse why he had to get home. But that didn’t happen. He wanted to be with ME. And whatever shitty and deplorable way our relationship came to an end later, (and it WAS extremely shitty) in that moment, on that night, during my first time after the last time, he wanted meAnd that felt good.

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Sex After Loss: The First Time After the Last Time

About The Author
- is a writer, actor, and stand-up comedian, living in NYC. Her first book: "My Husband Is Not a Rainbow: The Hilariously, Awful Truth About Life, Love, Grief, and Loss", will be released in 2017. Twitter and Instagram is @kelleyiskelley and www.akelleylynnlife.com