Day 47

I wake up counting the days until I'm free.

I feel like it matters that I do.

It's proof that I haven't lost hope.

But whether it's proof for Him or myself, that's what I'm starting to feel less and less certain of.

Every day is still a struggle.

And all of the cats that used to give me hope are gone.

I went to sleep one day, and when I woke up---that was it.

They were all gone .

I called out for them until I lost my voice.

Searched everywhere I could.

Prayed on my knees until my skin broke.

But they were gone.

And I just couldn't find the guts to ask my father if he knew anything about it.

(Because what you don't know can't hurt you.)

The voice in my head has changed since that day.

Most times, it's just me, when I need someone to talk to.

Other times, it's Him.

(So don't forget, Eden.)

And it's when the pain is too much, and all I can do is cry in the darkness, that His voice sounds more powerful than ever.

(This here is a temporary fallen world.)

Gentler.

(And one day...)

Nearer .

(One day, Eden...)

Yes, one day.

I have to remember that.

One day, I'll be free.

One day, it will all make sense.

And one day...

One day, I'll see them again.