After years, though too few, of snuggles, purrs, play and straw thievery, Binx fell asleep and didn't wake up.
Despite trying to resuscitate him, he was gone. He was heavy in my arms as I screamed and cried and told him that I loved him. I thanked him for being there for me through the passing of loved ones and turbulent times.
He was a long and tall cat who left a hole in my life so vast that even the ocean could not fill it.
The rooms felt empty without him. His chair and his perch were cleared in the thought, "have to move that for Binx." Each time realizing the fault and the hole would grow deeper and wider.
I miss and love his one ear freckle, spotted belly, big back feet, huge teeth and green eyes. I miss him so much I wanted to break apart the world and stop time from turning.
In a movie I love very much, to this day, a man makes the sound of ultimate suffering. My heart makes that sound every day, amplified in the cavern left behind, ringing out until it reaches through every vein, through every cell.
A vet close to home did the cremation service and took an imprint of his paw so I could have it. They were very kind and in the saddest times, that is what is needed.
To those who have lost their friends, I'm sorry. I'm sorry if no one seems to understand the depth of your loss. Us brokenhearted souls usually recognize each other, sometimes offering a string for mending even as we are still trying to stitch ourselves up. So far what I've found is that the love I feel that was torn away, was not. It is still there, looking to pour devotion into another heart.
Binx will always hold a special place in my heart.