Inhale.
Exhale.
Thank you, God.
“Josiah–”
Thank you.
Inhale.
Exhale.
Thank you, Lord.
“Say something.”
“I told you not to wait for me, Sunshine.”
“You make it impossible.”
“I also told you that my tolerance doesn’t exist.”
“I ended it.”
Silence.
“Josiah.”
Silence.
“Josiah…”
“What is it, Range?”
“Don’t hang up.”
I didn’t recognize my voice. I didn’t recognize myself. There was a hollowing so deep and so evident that I had no choice but to acknowledge it. It didn’t matter how much I pasted temporary fixes in the gaping hole, it was still just an abyss.
Josiah.
He was the resolution. He’d fill me. He’d keep me full.
“What’s the matter?”
“You.”
“Me?”
“Yes.”
“What about me, love?”
“I want you here.”
“You’re with your people. You don’t need me there, Range. Not right now anyway.”
“But, soon.”
