She Waits. That’s What She Does.

Another miserable morning and I’m waiting for my phone to ring, a text to arrive, an e-mail to be delivered. I’m waiting for you.

My mind wanders to thoughts of you and the beautiful feeling in my stomach and more whenever I looked at you or heard your voice, last experienced too long ago. I’m waiting for you.

I hear the laughter and fun of time spent together echo between the walls of my house. The echo emphasizes the emptiness. I’m waiting for you.

I arrive back from work to be greeted by emptiness and coldness. It is merely a house. No longer a home. I’m waiting for you.

All those hours of talking, dreaming, and planning of future events together, of a future life together. I’m waiting for that life to start. I’m waiting for you.

I put off going to bed at night until the last minute because it seems such a cold and lonely place when it once felt like home. I’m waiting for you.

Lying in the darkness I will sleep to come along but thoughts of you, of us, keep me awake and dawn comes before sleep. I’m waiting for you.

Then another miserable morning and I’m waiting for my phone to ring, a text to arrive, an e-mail to be delivered. I’m waiting for you.

You’re not there. You will be there no matter how long I wait. Were you ever there? But in hope, foolish or not, I stay, I wait. I’m waiting for you.