TWENTY-SEVEN
I’ve lost count of the days. Of the weeks we’ve been apart.
On Thanksgiving, Falcon went to his family in Raven and Swallow’s house, while they stayed here. To watch us. They didn’t say that, but I’m sure that’s why. At the time, I remember writing how sure I was we’d be together before Christmas. Sitting here on Christmas Eve, in what was our room for only one night, I just watched the plane carrying Falcon’s family approaching to land. How can it be that we’re still apart, my Heart? Keeping Falcon and his family apart was unfair, but at least they were still in contact. And now they’re here.
I don’t even know if you’re still alive. You don’t know that I’m still alive. Maybe you’re monitoring us somehow. I’d like to think that’s true, but if it is, I pray you can’t hear ou
