Losing my best friend

I think one of the toughest things about separation is that I've lost my best friend.  So often during the day I think to myself: "I have to tell Al about . . . " then I stop, and realize I'm not going to be telling him anything.  That hurts.  It could be work related, something about a friend, or something interesting I saw on the way to work.  No más.

A wise friend recently quizzed me about what was in it for me to stay in the relationship.  After all, we all act out of self interest, or what we perceive to be our own self interest.  I couldn't answer her then, but I think that the best-friend angle was probably my biggest benefit in our relationship.  I've always had good friends, close friends, wherever I've lived, and regardless of whether I was in a relationship.  I'm so grateful for those old friends - but realize that in the past several years, I've added almost no friends to my arsenal.  Might that be another effect of alcoholism?  Perhaps not, but it's certainly possible.  I know I've not explored fully the wide-ranging consequences of the family disease of alcoholism.  In any event, it likely exacerbates the pain of losing Al. 

While the loss of my best friend is painful, it's also a reminder that I need to live, as well - in fact, I just wrote earlier about living and letting live.  I thought I was pretty good at living, but now I'm questioning that proposition.  I need to develop a network of support, local support.  It's not going to happen overnight, but with attention and direction, I know I can do it.

But I still grieve my loss.