C,
A friend of mine pointed out that humans are not built to switch primary attachment figures/parents. S wasn't my parent, but what I felt/feel towards and with him feels just as permanent - cell-deep. The way you can't ever fully cut your mother out of your DNA.

Much as I hate my grief over S hitting me in the face, I also don't like coming face to face with the other grief: the grief that no matter how good the supplement, nothing can make me have had what I should've had when I should've had it. But, dammit, I was close...

I am relieved to hear you say that you don't want to break my comfort seeking pattern.

So... we're on the same page. The house of sticks has fallen; I'll let it fall, and I'm not scrambling to try to make it appear as stable as one made out of bricks (although I make no promises about never trying to build it with sticks again...you may have to call me out on picking up sticks again). Here I am on an only-started foundation with my pile of sticks. I'm really...really sad. Everything hurts. And I miss S. And I think I'm just going to sit here and be sad and hurting for a while.

Thanks for being here