Iwatch you leave from the balcony, we laugh together despite the growing distance, and I’m already wondering how long it will take you to get home to me.
I’ll spend my day near the telephone, just in case you decide to call. I never knew it was possible to feel anticipation on someone else’s behalf, until recently, I’ve felt it all.
My mind keeps playing me the scene, as I open the door to your excited, smiling face. “Welcome home,” I’d say, “how was work?” The end of my question, muffled by your embrace.
I’ll cook something easy like spaghetti and meatballs while we talk. You’ll tell me you’re doing everything you ever hoped to achieve, and tomorrow, maybe in the afternoon, we’ll plan to go for a walk.
At night, I’ll be far too happy, and not able to sleep, and we’ll lay there, not in bed, but a dream, seeing our lives as already complete.
On the walk, I’ll decide we should make our home in the woods. Beneath the trees we’ll pause, happy, drunk, and in love. You’ll tell me I’m crazy, and that we can’t move to the woods.
“But why?” I’ll lament, and you’ll spin me around. “I think it’s illegal,” you’ll say, “we’d better stay in town.”
Your answer will make me laugh, it’s more practical than I. I swear to god I’ll love you until the day we both do die.