This is probably not the story most of you want to read, and I’m perfectly fine with that.

It is a gentle story about myself and my relationships in my life.

My first love was my husband I’ll just call my husband, we met by accident really and it truly was not any love at first sight thing at all.

More a convenience relationship and consequent marriage, for him to have basically a house slave, and me to get out of the horrible life I had at home.

Now I’m not going to get into all that in the least but it was bad, do not feed the bears is my thought on why I will not say anymore about that.

But we married and have lived together for some off and on 35 years. And his passing away now put me in widow status.

Truly that does not bother me so much about his passing as the freedom of being myself and living as I damn well want to now.

To be absolutely truthful and strait out true about it all my true love of my life has been another man for years and years and years now.

I met him when I and my husband had separated due to his families continuous assaulting me and his and my relationship, like we were under their damn thumb and guidance the whole time of our marriage until his Mom passed away.

Oh his sisters were no better than their mom about it and living in a small town you know how that goes about like a raging out of control wildfire.

But when I met this new man Wow was it ever love at first sight!

He was charming, he was grateful, and did he ever cause a stir in the most private of a woman’s places.

That man stole and took my heart right out of me, and in the best most wonderful way there can be of it.

He treated me with respect, and required no housewife slavery I’d had so much of in my marriage.

And what a lover he was!

Mother what a lover he wore me out.

Going from a husband who seldom ever touched me to an outright passionate man that could make love to me all night long, drove me further into the depths of loving this man.

And even today as I sit here and write this I guess you call it more a memoir of my life as a story.

We lived very far apart and with our ages getting as they are just do not get to see each other as we used to be able to do.

He would drive multiple states away and rent a room and he and I would see each other like spring fever had hit us.

And all these years that went on I cared little whether my husband liked it or not.

He truly cared little about it, and his only concern was where’s my supper, are my clothes washed and cleaned, run my bathwater behavior about it all.

That was how our marriage went all the years we were married until his death.

With my freedom now and being now unto nearly 60 years old, I decided to drive the multiple states myself and see the one true love of my life.

You would think oh that old woman doesn’t have it anymore passion wise, and perhaps with any other man it would be just that way, but not with him!

We both felt young and vibrant and full of that passion of youth and love making and once again Mother what a lover he wore me out.

So at the current state of things our discussions have been about our living together and yet have our own space and our own lives to ourselves.

I can go play bingo, go to garage sales, do whatever to hell I want and when I want without hearing what I heard all my married years.

He on the other hand is just as free as I am, he goes camping and fishing with his son and grandsons, and freedom to go and do as he wants.

But that passion in the bedroom is just like it has been all these many many years, that is what true love is about.

This one story as I say is more a memoir of my life and whom I have been with marriage wise and friend and lover wise.

I just decided to sit down and write this out, and make a determination of whether I want to continue writing more or just leave it as it is now.

One story about the life of an old woman and her events in her life with marriage and the one true man I have loved for so many years.