he’s leaving tomorrow.

despite being in his arms, you hardly feel any warmth. there’s nothing to provide any comfort; you can’t sleep because you
know that whenever you wake up, you have to say goodbye. and part of you doesn’t even know if you want him to be holding
you right now, even if it is your last night together for a long while.

because you don’t know if you could ever let go of each other.

this day has been coming and you’ve both known it, but it’s been brushed aside–
but it’s finally here now and you don’t know how to handle it.

the mere thought of waking up to an empty bed makes your eyes sting and your lips purse tightly
in order to suppress any cries. he has a lot on his mind already– no need to add any more to that.
but your body begins to tremble regardless of your attempts to remain still– and muscles tense when you hear him say your name.

“don’t worry.” joshua speaks in the gentlest of tones; he almost seems wary of his words, trying to convince himself that it’ll all work out. “i’m not leaving yet.”

yet.

his lips press against the top of your head and his hold tightens the slightest bit; he wishes he could find
all the right things to say, but his mind is too occupied with worries and hopes for the future. the silence feels
suffocating and he finds the courage to sing for you– this had always been a song he sang whenever you couldn’t sleep.

but when he begins, his voice is shaky but he doesn’t dare to stop. and your tears begin to fall and he feels them seep
into the fabric of his shirt, but he does everything to try to remain strong– and he continues in his song.

it’s hard to be separated. it won’t be easy adapting, but you’ll be alright.

you’ll be okay.