I could have written this - or at least been a silent partner. I was the woman about whom you speak. I was married, happy, respected, valued, connected. For 23 years.

Since he passed away, I have become the luckiest woman on the planet: legally able to keep and inherit everything, without having to remarry, without having to marry one of his brothers. It’s been 9 years; I should be happy. But I want that connection. I want to grow old with someone. I’m perfectly independent and functioning by myself. But yeah. I hate it.

And do I even have to right to expect to find what I had? Because most people don’t even get one shot at that.