Nothing's the same, I toss and turn at night because he's not here. It's the worst pain imaginable, heartbreak is no joke. It's like having opiate withdrawal times 20 but with even stronger craving for your ex.
I was living with a guy for over a year when he suddenly attacked me for not having sex when he demanded it at noon in the kitchen. He roughed me up a bit, left serious bruises. I'd never seen that behavior before, I was totally unprepared for it.
But I'm never tougher than when my back's against the wall. And he literally had me pinned against a wall. He finally backed down in the face of my defiance (non-violent defiance - what could I do against a guy who was twice as strong as me). I promptly dressed and went outside. To trudge though some heavy new snow, crying all the way. I knew it was over with us. He had crossed a line I couldn't forget.
By the time I returned about an hour later I had made a plan of action. I'm always most comfortable and confident when I have a plan. Within a couple of months I had made new housing arrangements and moved out. That's when I met my first real partner. Who actually proposed to me on bended knee with an engagement ring. We used the term husband for each other, common among our gay partnered friends, though none of us able to legally marry back then. Life began over for me.
But a few years later my first husband suddenly fell ill at New Years and died 6 weeks later. I felt the things you describe for yourself. And had an emotional breakdown of some sort. I couldn't enter our bedroom. Nor the living room or especially the kitchen, that was his special domain, loving to cook.
I would drop to the floor at times, flailing my fists, crying & blabbering "I want my Tom back! I want my Tom!" Yeah, a serious basket case.
I lived in the office, at the computer all day, sleeping on the futon I had designed and had built for us when we got that place. A local supermarket offered an online ordering service, so my groceries were delivered at the front door. I bought stuff I could eat without needing kitchen preparation or refrigeration.
I almost never went outside the front door, becoming a hermit. Other than using the bathroom, and my utility room to wash my clothes, I never left that office for several months, never went past its door more than 20 feet, with the exception of some garbage runs to the curb.
Finally a gay couple came over and did an intervention in April. They forced me to take down the Christmas tree, still standing from the day Tom left the house, never to return. One of them cleaned everything in the kitchen, unwashed from when Tom cooked his last holiday meal.
Their actions jolted me back to sanity (if I can claim any even today). So that I wanted to take charge of my own recovery from that point onward. To make a plan.
I knew that the grieving had to be over, continuing it was unhealthy for me. I decided that the best cure was socializing again, and at 6 months after his death I should date. Not rebound dating, I recognized those risks while I was still recovering, my emotions by definition unreliable. And yours may be, too.
I think a lot of us, gay & straight, hit these emotional walls. You now have, I have, many of us have. I worry how I'll handle my current husband's passing, we've had some close calls with him. Although even younger than him I had always assumed I'd go first, my own health marginal, but lately I'm not so sure.
This is the risk you take in any relationship. Straight men face the same thing, it's not exclusively a gay issue. You just have to work your way through it. Life is like that.