So I’ve been living alone for years. I think it was a damn good thing for me to have had that time where I didn’t have anyone to really fall back on. Don’t get me wrong, there were literally times I thought I was going to die (dengue, diabetes complications, etc.) but I learned so much about how resilient and capable I can be.
So, I’m not alone anymore and despite Herbert (service dog) having some issues (HOW DARE YOU KISS FoodLady’s HEAD INTERLOPER! I KILL YOU!) settling in, it feels wonderful. We fit. I don’t believe I understood before now how loving someone was not enough to live with someone; you have to work with each other and not around each other. I had never experienced the difference and holy crap, what a difference! I am not used to having help and help is a good thing. Yesterday I reveived the unwelcome news that someone I used to work with had passed away. My initial reaction was to bury the pain because I “have company”. Thankfully my partner/love knew better and didn’t let me bury it. Instead, he kept me company on the bed while we listened to an audio book about zombies (he.HATES.zombies) and let me deal with the sads in my own way. He keeps reminding me that he is home by doing stuff around the house (dishes, laundry) and I am learning to let him help.
So, this is a weird new chapter in my life, but thus far it is wonderful and satisfying one.
Wish me luck. 
