The unrelenting stress of the last eight weeks and the shock of the last two days have been replaced with a crushing misery that answers the questions my mind was screaming on Wednesday. “What does this mean? How will I be?”

I know now, and I wish I did not.

People who knew Bartleby, and those who simply observed him, most often used the words ‘devoted’ and ‘soulful’ to describe him. “Gentleman” and “nerdy” were also favorites.

They commented all the time on how constant his gaze on me was. He looked at me, and to me, for everything…How should I feel about this? Where are we going? (Even when that journey was a mere five feet, it was worthy of close scrutiny and accompaniment.) Isn’t this awesome? And the ever popular, “Can I eat that?”

What those same people did not notice, I guess, is that the gaze was entirely mutual. My life was paced by milliseconds and microscopic decisions…How will I sit in this chair since Bartleby will be asking permission to share it any second now? How will I plan my errands and adventures to include him as much as possible? Is doing X more important/enjoyable/meaningful than being with him?  What can I contribute to the lives of others? What do I need to feel comfortable and safe?

All of these questions had a single answer.

My rising and resting, my work, my play, a huge portion of my socializing, the sense of meaning in my life…these were all inextricably tied to Bartleby.

I’ve told the story a thousand times of how I made a declaration to the Universe that I wanted to wake up laughing every day. That wish was answered in a way I could never have imagined…a stubby, spotted, little guy who, without my even noticing, redefined who I am, and how I am, in the world.

I like and respect myself more than I ever have because of how I was with Bartleby.

Now, as I move through those same milliseconds that seem to grind on no matter how much I wish they would not, my gaze falls on empty space and the enormous, seemingly bottomless, reserve of love I never knew existed in me lies wanting. When I rise, there is no greeting. When I choose my next step, there is no guide. It is as if I’ve lost a vital organ.

Now, I am in the world without him, which doesn’t seem possible to anyone, not even to people who barely knew us. I have heard ‘But, it’s always been Bonny & Bartleby!” so many times in the last two days.

It turns out that ‘always’ is defined as 9 years, 9 months and 4 days. 3556 days…only 22 of which were spent apart. 85,584 hours of knowing what I was about, where I was going and why I did whatever I did.

Today, almost everything is different and that difference is dreadful. It is an ache in my heart that is threatening to overtake me. How many times will I look down, seeking those huge, brown eyes? How many more tears will I shed when I cannot find them?

Over the last two days, I have been SO comforted by the many reassurances that I did the right thing for Bartleby. I wasn’t sure in the first dreadful hours, but I do know the rightness of it now. What he taught me about love and devotion fueled my actions and guided my steps even when I felt as though I was pitifully flailing.

But, what now?

I was honorable. I let love steer me. I did the hardest thing I’ve ever done in my entirely eventful life. And now, my devotion, my gaze, and my heart, are all falling into empty space.