Ten months. So close to a year. So many processes that needed to be completed have been completed. There are so very many more to go, and I’m slowly (glacially) working through those things. It’s a lot, and it needs to be done, but I’m not at a point where I’m rushing it.

I achieved some closure from a dream Alan appeared in last week. I think now that I’m at a breathing point, I’m more able to begin processing this transition. Everything feels off. I’m grateful for friends who let me deal with things as they come up and offer a safe space to do so.

For people who have never dealt with this type of thing before, I suspect they do not realize that I’m just beginning the process of rebuilding my life. I met Alan in September 1985, and he’s been an integral part of my life since before 1990. Every aspect of my life was intertwined with his. Even though we talked about this time regularly, and I knew the steps that needed to be taken and what I needed to do, that doesn’t begin to help me reconstruct what my new life will be without him.

I can easily decide the pieces of personal property, both his and mine, that would be best to be rehomed — finding those homes may be a little more challenging. And, I suppose, I can keep taking one day at a time and drift along, dealing with things as they pop up. I’m not entirely adrift. I do have thoughts and probable plans for things I would like to do and accomplish in the future, but it still feels as if I’m feeling my way.

This isn’t a speedy process.