But what do we call the aching emptiness that I feel for you? All the time? Every day?” Tears stung at the words, at the way he put voice to the emptiness that lived inside her, as well. An aching sadness, like a part of her was gone. He kissed her again, urgent and full of that ache. “What do we call the loneliness, as though my other half has gone, never to return?” he asked. “What do we call that?” Love.
