By Vivianna Jones
Two weeks after I filed for divorce, on one of those magical October nights with a harvest moon and a surprisingly warm breeze, I found myself naked, on top of a gorgeous man two-thirds my age, in a small orange tent, beside a dying bonfire, with perhaps a few too many beers in my belly.
To call it a date would be an outright lie. There was no phone call, no assigned meeting time and place, no primping or prepping in front of the mirror considering whether or not my butt looked fat. No, indeed, it was my first-ever, and probably last, one-night stand. Err… correction… five-hour stand.
What can I say? I’m a sucker for cowboy hats, overalls, big muscles and curly brown hair, and Ben was four for four. So after sharing some campfire stories, and making sure I knew his last name, into the tent we went for some Whoopie Ki-yi-yay!
Please, before you slap a scarlet letter on my chest (I was still married,) or label me a whore, spare me just this once? After seventeen years of monogamy, the last three of which were a true test of endurance, and knowing that my husband was seeing another woman, I needed this. It was the final nail on the coffin that contained my marriage. It was a freedom ride on my journey towards liberation. It was puddin’ proof that the girl still got it!
Thankfully, the taste of hot young flesh didn’t turn me into a middle-aged vamp. Nor did I become a stalker of the sexy stranger. Instead, the memory of that one night helped me through the next seven or eight months. I was able to go about the painful business of dissolving my marriage, knowing that when I was ready, after I properly grieved, I could get back on the horse and ride again.
I blush to think of that naughty night many moons ago, but I’m saddled with no regrets. Tonight, beneath my rosy cheeks is a wide grin – probably reminiscent of the smile I was able to conjure up occasionally despite my general sadness at that time of my life. It’s not the toothy smile that immediately precedes laughter, or the one that comes to your face when you open a door and see someone you love. It’s a lips-together grin that reminds you that things were once okay, and will be again.
“Hi-yo, Silver. Away!”
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Vivianna Jones is a still-single mother of two, whose hobbies include writing and, as of recently, horseback riding. ;) She’s currently busy praying that her 13-year-old daughter doesn’t stumble across this article. “Purely fiction, Darling!”
* Vivianna won the copy of the book "Getting Naked Again: Dating, Romance, Sex, and Love When You've Been Divorced, Widowed, Dumped or Distracted" by Judith Sills, Ph.D.
