Saudade

I said nothing for a time, just ran my fingertips along the edge of the human-shaped emptiness that had been left inside me. ― Haruki Murakami

It is an ottoman-shaped emptiness.

I stand by the sink and brush my teeth, and glance towards the door.  My heart cracks anew because I realize once more that I will not hear the jingle of his collar or view his black and white ottoman-shaped form trotting with a quiet cheerfulness through the doorway into the bedroom.  After a long and mentally fatiguing day of onerous tasks, mundane annoyances, and boring frustrations, nothing would be more consoling right now than to see the wag of his stumpy tail. I would not need words to tell him how I am feeling -- he would just understand.  I would sit with him and partake of his serenity.  I would touch his soothing, warm fur. And then I would feel better.

And I will never have those things again, and there is no comfort to be found.