Fifteen Years, Seven Months, Seven Weeks, Since the Sky Fell

Today, Tarack came home, at least in body.

We...talked, for a very long time, and much of it was an emotional argument that left us both exhausted. But sleep provided some calm, because in the morning when we spoke it was less anxious, though much more sorrowful than it had been earlier.

He's staying here, but it's not the same. He's become distant, a slave to his past, refusing to keep moving forward; I thought we were finished with that battle, but it appears he is not.

I still gave him the ring I had made for him, and he wears it even though he choses to stand on the other side of an ocean from me in spirit. Our days have become quiet and distant, despite the fact each morning and night he sits across the table from me for our meals - I paint or cook while he meditates or reads.

Though he's here...I miss him.