October 13, 2018

Eliska was curled up in the chair next to her bedroom window, beams of moonlight and the warm glow of the lamp nearby casting soft light on the pages of her book. The window was open. The gentle breeze flowing into the room was bitingly chilly against the bare parts of her skin, but she didn't mind the numbness.

She and her father had returned from Georgia just a few hours before, but she wasn't tired, oblivious to how late it was—rather, how early. Her book captured her full attention; she read to drown everything else out. If she wasn't reading, she had to think about how much she missed Jonah.

They had been together for four months. The first month, she could handle herself. She could control her thoughts and desires. She understood the extent of Jonah's career. She knew their time together would not be plentiful, but she was not discouraged.

A month and a half into their relationship was the day they spent in Santa Monica. Everytime she thought of the time when it was just the two of them, she felt content. That day had been the cornerstone of her emotions for months.

Everything after that melted into a blur.

Phone and Facetime calls talking about anything and everything, for any given amounts of time. Sometimes, they were fortunate and got to speak with one another, uninterrupted, for half an hour. Those were the times she felt closest to him, no matter the number of miles that seperated them.

Other times, however, they only had a couple minutes to catch up. They were always interrupted or Eliska would have to board a plane or Jonah would have to sign off for an interview or sound check.

School and travel kept Eliska busy. When she wasn't out of town, she was working at the coffee shop near her house, eyes set on graduating early, therefore needing to earn money for college.

Some days she felt great. She thrived in the experiences and sights of her travels, accomplished school work quickly, but most of all, felt confident in her relationship with Jonah. Some days she would be filled with a sense of unexplainable peace, knowing that she and Jonah would be alright, despite the distance between them.

Other days, however, were bleak. She felt she had no purpose, no motivation to do anything. That was when she and Jonah didn't have time to talk. She couldn't explain the feeling. It was just empty. She still loved him on those days. She loved him unconditionally, but that feeling was still there.

And those were the days that were becoming more frequent.

Her phone began vibrating against the surface of her desk. She got up slowly and crossed the room to pick it up.

"Hey, baby," Jonah said softly when she accepted his Facetime request. He was lying on his back on one of the bunks of the tour bus, his gentle smile crinkling the corners of his eyes.

"Hi, Jo," she answered as she returned to her chair, mirroring his facial expression.

"How are you doing?" he asked her. He didn't mean it as a lame pleasantry; he never did. He authentically desired to hear about how she was feeling, to understand what was going on in her life even though he couldn't be right beside her.

"I'm okay. I got a lot done today. Finally got over myself and took that test I was stressed about."

"Was it as hard as you thought it'd be?" he asked, rubbing one of his eyes. She shrugged.

"I either did really good or I flunked it. No in between."

He shook his head as she moved some hair out of her face. He could tell she was sitting next to her window. She looked gorgeous with abstract arrays of shadows and moonlight playing across her face.

"I'm sure you did great. You always do."

Her half-smile appeared. He was convinced he would never grow tired of it.

"And the interview?" she said, changing the subject.

"It was good, actually. I hate when they ask us about celebrity crushes—which, of course, they asked us about—but other than that, it was fine."

She didn't respond, just looked at him, taking in his familiar features. He needed a haircut again. His eyes looked darker than usual. And he was tired; she could tell with nothing but a glance.

"El," he said, drawing her attention.

"Hmm?"

"What's the book you're reading about?" She smiled to herself as he moved to lie on his stomach.

In the past weeks, she had been telling him about her books often. He didn't have enough down time to read, so she would relay what happened in her stories. It wasn't long after they started dating that he told her he liked listening to her voice, and that she was a great storyteller.

So, she began. She painted an image of the world and storyline so vividly, that Jonah felt he was reading it himself. No matter how much he loved listening, however, his eyelids began to feel heavy. He had been awake nearly twenty-four hours and time was catching up to him.

Eliska glanced at the screen after explaining one of the most important scenes between the main characters of the book to find Jonah with his eyes closed, chin resting on folded arms.

She paused. It took several moments for him to stir.

"I'm sorry, baby," he mumbled. Eliska's heart went out to him. He needed to sleep, but he wasn't allowing himself to because he wanted to be with her.

"Jo, we've talked about this. Don't apologize, okay? I understand. I'm here for you and I get it, so you don't ever have to say sorry."

A ghost of a grin pulled at the corners of his lips.

"Sorry," he said quietly.

She scoffed, but her smile betrayed her.

"Alright," she said after a period of silence, "I think it's time."

"No, I—El, I didn't mean to close my eyes like that. I want to talk more."

"I do too, Jo, but you need to sleep."

"We could talk for just a couple more—"

"Jonah, we can't keep doing this." Her words were not loud, but sharp, and firm.

Jonah stared at her blankly.

"I meant us talking late at night like this. The reason you're losing sleep," she clarified in an even quieter voice, closing her eyes. She let out a sigh after that and rubbed her temple.

She hadn't meant it to come out the way it did, but his tendency to put their relationship before his own personal needs baffled her. She loved that he wanted to talk to her—she wanted to talk to him too—but he needed to know when it was necessary to take care of his own health first.

"I'm sorry," she finally said. He responded by repeating her own words.

"You don't have to apologize. I understand, so don't say sorry."

She nodded.

"El?" She looked up at him. "We're good, okay?"

Her features softened.

"I know we're good, Jo. I just miss you. I love talking to you like this, but you can't be losing sleep over it, either. You have bags under your eyes, and I know you. You're exhausted. Not just today, but every day. You and the guys never stop working and it's...."

He raised his hands in an act of surrender.

"I know. We're busy, and I'm not going to hit you with the it's our job thing. Yes, I'm tired. I just... I want to spend every free second with you and for us that means late at night."

She nodded her head again. A comfortable silence rested between them.

"Well... I love you," she said after a while.

"I love you too." He paused before adding, "Always."

He was messing with the blanket underneath him when he said it, like it was a casual part of any conversation, like it was something normal to say to the girl he'd known for seven months.

"Get some sleep, Jo," she said.

"I will. Goodnight."

"Goodnight."

Long after the call was over, she sat still. She couldn't get that word out of her head: Always.

She was only eighteen, but she loved Jonah. Knowing that, and knowing it was true made her feel guilty about the thought residing in the forefront of her mind.

How could they always love one other if they were never together?