Today I had to collect the forms from the Funeral Directors for Allan's death to be registered. I was very apprehensive, hardly slept all night. The very thought of having to do this drew a sharp pain from the back of my throat right down to my feet all through the night, as if somehow I needed to be in more pain. The process of registering Allan's death was made that wee bit better by the genuine empathy of the Registrar's staff; it didn't matter to them that we were a same sex couple, I was a bereaved partner and I got a sense of dignity while I was going through this process. Next trip back to the Undertakers with the "white form", and a look at caskets for Allan's ashes to be interned with in the grave where his mother is buried. That wasn't as bad as I thought either, although I'm sure this is a lull in the emotional storm. I spoke with Allan today, as I always have done. I asked him for his forgiveness, his love and his support. I had a laugh with him, then a wee cry and now I'm getting that horrible feeling of dread in the back of my throat and down to my chest. I miss him so much, it's like something inside me has been crushed.