The insurance lady said, “Marital status. Are you married or single?”

I am neither.

I am both.

I don’t know.

I feel married to someone who is not here but who would be here if he could be. So I’m alone. But not technically single. Or maybe technically single but not emotionally single.

I don’t identify with single.

I have a wedding ring on…see? It’s a wedding ring. It’s platinum and it’s round and it signifies the circle of never ending love. And it’s inscribed. It says “To Susan, Love Michael.” And he meant it.

And the other wedding ring? It’s his. It is also platinum and inscribed. “To Michael, Love Susan.” And I meant it.

And we loved each other more than anything else. And we wanted it to last forever. And we were good together. And after a lifetime of abandonment, I had someone who would never leave me and I trusted him and thought he would be here for a long, long time. But he was taken away from me. And he wouldn’t have gone if he could help it.

And I think of him every minute of every day and feel so lost sometimes that I think I want to just jump in the river. I cry every single day. Lots. A piece of me is gone. And the universal wind howls through the hole in my soul.

And I feel married to him. Because I am shattered that he is not here. I don’t feel single because I’m not. But maybe I am.

I don’t know what box you check for that.