Ok...what?

Edit: The experiment described below lasted about 6 days. I guess the interest generated made me feel a little like a kid on a Big Wheel in Times Square traffic.
I am ready to confess that this week, under the tutelage of two of my adult daughters, I made an OkCupid profile. They assure me that it’s not a big deal. That lots of people use the site for meeting people in general, and not necessarily just for dating. I point out that I’m only thinking about how it would be nice to go out to dinner and have a conversation, or break up the alone time. That I’m not at a point where I am, in any serious way, ready to charge into the dating scene. Whatever the dating scene is.
Alzheimer spouses discuss the question fairly often: Is it acceptable to consider a relationship with another potential partner when your disabled spouse is still living, but unable to interact with you in a meaningful way, and is largely unaware? Opinions vary. Intentions vary. Mostly we agree to try not to be judgmental about it. I’m not even sure how I feel. About me, I mean. Toward any other Alzheimer spouse contemplating the question, I accept that they will do what’s right for them. And we all recognize that humans thrive on relationships with other humans, and don’t do well in isolation.
But do I want to “date?” I would like to ignore that word. Not look at it. I expect that if it comes to a point where I’m actually on the verge, pertinent emotions will be hard to disentangle from my continuous sadness about losing Jeff.
But making the profile felt like a brave step. A doing of “something.” Across the board, I need to do a lot of somethings in order to reconstruct a sense of contentment with the world, and being slightly open to the possibility that a man could be involved in some of the somethings is a factor I’m trying to process. If my brain let me choose, I’d choose to be happy single, but I’m having trouble convincing it.
So, back to OkCupid. Luckily, the wise and intrepid girls steered me away from using a handle that bears any resemblance to my real name. Then they graded my text entries (without a red pen) into the various categories such as “the 6 things I can’t do without,” and “you should contact me if.”
More fun for them, I’m sure, was editorializing on the messages that have rolled in since. Over the last 36 hours, maybe 20-some. So much fun for them, in fact, that I will probably not continue to let them read over my shoulder.
In which case, I will have to gauge for myself which notes warrant a response and which don’t. If it’s from “Awesome4U”...well, probably not. But I will confess that I’ve found one or two to be quite appealing. I am still not brave. I am still quite petrified by the prospect of actually meeting anyone. So, maybe I won’t. This is yet to be determined.
The girls tell me to relax. It’s low-key, I can deactivate my profile at a moment’s notice, I don’t have to respond to anything. And anyway, if I ever were to meet someone, I’d vastly prefer for it to be accidental. But this is at least one more way of shaking a leg at the world.