I need to get distracted, I said, because all I can think about is being without you.
It’s the quiet moments when you aren’t around when the planted seeds begin to flower into worry. It’s the desires I have, the dreams I want to make reality, but only with you. It’s the chaotic urge to surge ahead, to jump ahead, to rush ahead and get to the part where there isn’t the waiting for your face, the dreading of goodbyes, the longing for your touch. It’s the emptiness I feel in my every day, wishing you were there to fill the spaces left for you.
Your side of the bed is left empty, though your form has yet to grace my sheets. It’s the cold in the night when I yearn for your heart. It’s my parched lips that crave your kiss, a taste of bliss as skin brushes skin. I long for your fingertips to paint memories upon my flesh, something more solid to hold onto.
But even then, your presence is fleeting - seven days, seven nights, and then we’re back to this. Back to being unable to kiss you goodnight and trying to catch brief rendezvouses when we manage to find the time. Then the remnants of your touch will itch and burn as your essence fades away and again I’m waiting for the day when we could be united again.
I recall that song I told you about - the one that reminds me of you. And when my eyes rest upon your face, all my doubts fade away. I’ll be brave and strong, learn to carry on, because having waited for you this long… at least my search is done.