I choose to think that he has returned to the spirit of goodness that brought him to me in my time of need. My prayer for him would be that I filled as much need in him as he did in me. I want to believe that in body or in spirit he still roams the fields running and jumping playfully and, when hungry, hunting for his meals. Wherever he is he has moved on. Life is transient.
Loves come into our lives and leave our lives.
We cannot hold them. We can only accept their love and return it. Maturity, I suppose, is being able to let these loves in and to love them and then to allow them to leave with no strings attached. Letting them in means letting ourselves be vulnerable. Letting them leave without regret means mourning but not hanging on.