Eat-out with ******

“I’m gonna be very truthful here.”
“Uh-oh........” I thought to myself. “She’s gonna say something she’s afraid might hurt my feelings.”
We were eating out at an Italian restaurant, our weekly eat-out since our other companion was hospitalized.
All of us lost our long-time marriage-mates, me six years ago, the others five.
Now it’s just ****** and me, a super-confident lady in her 60s, versus a 74-year-old geezer loathe to do anything other than write. The other guy was also in his 70s, slightly older than me.
We all came to know each other at various grief-shares.
“Not having children makes grief much harder. Yer children become yer support-system, and also might say something yer marriage-mate mighta said.”
My feelings weren’t hurt. It locked me up = inability to cogitate what she said for lack of similar experience.
This is why I continue eating out with ******. She’s likely to say something worth hearing.
We’re far apart. ****** likes to travel, and I just walk my dog. I also apparently don’t “bore her to death.”
Recently one of her online suitors took her to the same restaurant. “Boring as Hell! He didn’t even ask my background.”
“Tell me all about yer background,” I gushed.
“Do you think I’m intimidating?”
“Probably yes. How does one entertain a ******?”
But I think I may be more intimidating myself. I know who I am, and like it. ****** may have lost a husband who made her more sure of herself.
I too lost “the best friend I ever had,” but for whatever reason I was already happy with who I was. I could stand alone. I got an extremely perfect wife, and don’t expect to replace her.
I miss having my wife around, but I can entertain myself.
As I understand it, ****** also had a difficult childhood. But in my case that made me able to entertain myself.
I hope ****** and I keep eating out together. We discuss her various suitors. “I really like this one,” she says, showing me an iPhone picture.
“Looks Republican,” I snap.