‘Hey, it’s me. Sorry we haven’t spoken in a while. I guess I don’t find it easy knowing what to say.’
‘No problem. Take as long as you need.’ He holds the phone, suddenly breathless, heart beating so loudly he is sure she can hear it.
Two hundred miles away she sighs and looks upwards at the pink sky to stop the tears that seem to have fought their way to the surface despite her struggle. ‘I’m sorry. I really am sorry. And I need you to know that I do love you, I really do. But I need to sort out myself before I go messing up your life again. Is…is that okay?’
Without even realising he exhales slowly, exhausted, and reaches for the glass bottle on his bedside. ‘Sure. That’s okay. But I just want you to know- I’ll be here. I’ll be waiting for you. Whenever you need me.’
Her voice cracks. 'I know.’
— j.f // home is where the heart is, and I’m two hundred miles away • excerpts of stories I will never write (via coffeeandleatherboundbooks)