Unicorn

I’ve likened Bryan to a unicorn, not because he was a mythical, mystical, enchanted beast. He.was.rare. Precious. He preferred to discuss ideas much more than events or people. He could change his mind with well-argued, reasonable, and passionate push-back. He listened actively, almost irritatingly so. He made his space welcome to the vulnerable. He was endlessly curious about the world, the universe, the opinions of others, my opinions. Now I want to make sure you know I’m not deifying the man. Bryan was absolutely human and anyone who was on a bike ride with him when the hangries hit KNOW just how much so.

I know exactly how lucky I am to have been married to this man. I know what it means to be with someone whose heart and mind are peerless. That’s what makes being single now so incredibly difficult. I long for nothing less than a unicorn and I know that’s improbable and definitely more than a little greedy.

So what then? Admittedly, for the past year and change, I’ve been more of a grief aardvark. But maybe instead of looking for another unicorn, I need to become the unicorn–a better listener, a safe place for the vulnerable, more willing to admit when I’m wrong, able to change my mind when presented with new evidence.

I certainly have some work to do.