What would my wife think if she were still alive

—“I noticed I really make you happy sometimes,” I’d say to one of my pretty little lady-friends.
“The way you walk toward me quickly so we can talk. The way you smile and talk to me; it’s apparent we really enjoy each other.”
I won’t say that to her since it would kill the mood.
“He’s FLIRTING!” my wife would exclaim.
I agree with another lady-friend on this: namely that mere talking between persons of the opposite sex, if it’s devoid of sexual intent, is not flirting.
But my wife was fragile. She also had a difficult childhood, but mainly it was her mother.
My bereavement-counselor tells me I was extremely lucky to marry someone almost as screwed up as me.
Now that my wife is gone — April 17th will be nine years — I discover how severely screwed up I was.
The zealots and Bible-beaters were the EVIL ones. They convinced a five-year-old little boy he was disgusting, and totally unworthy of any companionship whatsoever, especially female.
Any joy I experienced talking with another woman would be threatening to my wife.
Now I find I’m a charmer; ladies love talking with me.
I let ‘em; I encourage ’em.
Ladies love talking! I let ‘em talk to me, and the one who cuts off conversations is always me.
So if my wife were still alive, my current contact with women would remain negligible. I wouldn’t wanna hurt my wife’s feelings.
My wife and I were very attached. Over 44&1/2 years there mighta been 10 times we slept apart.
We always shared the same bed, me hanging onto my wife more than her hanging onto me, probably because the one royally screwed up was me.
Discovering the sanctimonious holier-than-thous were WRONG has me befriending ladies willy-nilly.
I also discovered the joy and ease of striking up a conversation, and how much women like for me to do that.
Apparently striking up a conversation is rare. I’ve had ladies be thrilled I said something to ‘em.
I worry about my little lady-friend.
She’s married, so it shouldn’t be me that makes her so happy.
Me and another lady-friend had a talk.
I met my little friend’s husband, and he's a really nice guy. But I know how marriage can make the joy disappear.
You end up taking your spouse for granted.
“I bet I make her happier than her husband does — we always strike sparks.”
My friend agreed.
I know the guy, but he needs to get his butt in gear, and be as happy to meet his wife as I am.
She comes home from work and DRONE!
I meet her, and we’re both thrilled.
I noted to another lady-friend such enthusiasm is infectious. If I’m the least bit tentative or scared, my contact will pick that up: she’ll think I’m avoiding her.
I’m thrilled to meet my little friend, so she’s thrilled I’m thrilled.
Can her husband be similarly thrilled?
The poor girl loves someone liking her as much as I do.
During our cancer escapade I brought my wife home from the hospital determined I was going to change my ways. Stop being the jerk I was beforehand.
Didn’t work. No matter that hospital saved her life, I returned to being the same jerk I was before.
Mayhap my little friend’s marriage becomes just grin-and-bear-it.
I know she would not be the easiest person in the world to live with, but I know she can be happy; I’ve seen it!
Suppose I were married to my little friend, instead of the one she’s married to — perish the thought: I would drive her to divorce in no time.
Would I be able to sustain the joy we now have?
Probably. I'd be in the habit of being happy with her. With my wife I was in the habit of being a jerk. Her husband is in the habit of taking her for granted.
Habits seem to be forever.

• My little friend phoned me this morning, her pretense pertaining to another item of business. But I think she really just wanted me to make her happy.
• As a result of my wife dying, I see a Bereavement-Counselor once a month.