My partner of 17 years passed away two weeks ago tomorrow

[HillWilliam]

We had something together that might be the stuff of stories: true friendship, deep devotion, romance from minute one until the end.

When we first got together, he was forthright about his HIV status. I loved his total honesty and counted on it in all things. Our complete honesty with one another was a bedrock of our relationship. When the world turned sour, we knew we had one person left in our corner -- each other. Together, arm in arm, we survived cancer, his multiple trips to the hospital, hunger, occasional unemployment, even homelessness. No matter how the world tried to break us apart, no matter what life threw at us, the worse things got the closer we got together.

We made it a point never to part except with "I love you". We made it a point if we passed one another to reach out a hand to touch one another as we went about the job of keeping a home together.

The last couple of years his health had not been the best. I really thought he'd pull out again and we'd make it into our 60s. I knew from the beginning that he was a precious gift that I would not be allowed to keep; "tomorrow" was never promised. Then again, I travel 50 miles each way to work and back. It could as easily have been me.

There are two things I never expected. I never expected I'd have to give him back so soon. Neither of us expected him to have a massive heart attack to take him away so suddenly.

I have often read that anger is one of the stages of grief. I can find nowhere in my shock, depression, and profound sadness any anger. I keep thanking Whoever May Be Listening that I was lucky enough to have a once-in-a-lifetime love. I know so many people who haven't and probably never will. I keep thanking that One or Those Ones that out of all the people on the planet, I got to be the grand prize winner to have such a good, honest, loving, compassionate man in my life who loved me just as unconditionally as I love him. I'm grateful to have had such a banquet of love that I'm filled for the rest of my life, neither needing nor wanting anything different. I'm completely at peace with that.

But god, oh, god I miss him. I miss his voice. Those eyes. Most of all, my memories are of his eyes. His arms were always the safest place on earth. I miss my confidente and prankin' buddy, the keeper of my secrets, the one who'd tell me in no uncertain terms when I was full of crap, the patcher of my wounds. The good man, the passionate and good-to-the-core man. The dedicated Democrat and rescuer of animals, the one who was so sick but always took up for ones weaker or sicker than himself.

I sit alone in a huge fixer-upper house that was his dream. He was the clever and handy one, but ran out of energy and time. The roof has failed. I'm at wits end over what to do. We have seven rescued dogs. While he was alive, it was easy to give them all time and attention. I can not break up the pack nor would I. They're as bonded to each other as they are to me and I am to them. They are my children. It occurred to me that single dads manage jobs and kids all the time. It immediately occurred to me that single dads usually do this in their 20s and 30s. I'm 56, exhausted from putting so much heart and soul in, overextended, and now my mind is blown from grief.

Grief is a familiar thing to me. I know how it works. I've never experienced it to this depth before. Half my soul just vanished. The advice and platitudes are socially expected but particularly unhelpful. Worse, a couple of people (one of them being my formerly-favorite auntie) immediately suggested I just run out and find somebody else.

WTF?!?

I feel sorrow for those two who immediately suggested such a thing. They never had what I did and it's tremendously sad they never will. Unable to form attachments, they have no idea what my beloved meant to me.

There's a bit more to this OP, a reason why I couldn't write before now even though dear AuntAgonist invited me. I've managed to get this much out. I'll post more down-thread later.