I don’t believe in schedules that aren’t full
Because empty time slots leave too much room for my thoughts to scheme mind games on themselves
Empty time slots allowing restlessness to creep into my bones giving my imagination an endless playground
Empty time slots where everything around me is still and silent no busyness to distract from the loneliness that dances with me in the moments where oneness is all that I know
My roommate once told me, that I was the type of person who didn’t need people I wonder if she knows that I thrive off people needing me
To tend to them left and right so I can forget the fight that my waiting soul keeps having with my only sometimes anxious heart
And I know, good things come to those who wait
But greater ones to those who are patient
Sometimes, I just don’t want to be patient
I want to know what it really feels like to have someone not beside you
But still experience the pattern of their heartbeat next to yours from miles away
To know what it feels like to not only be needed but wanted
Not your body but the very presence of your essence
What it feels like for someone to say that they miss you, and not question if it’s true because you can pinpoint the place where your distance hurts the most
The idea that one person can handle all of these flaws and mold them into everything they consider beautiful
Sometimes,
I would like for my outsides to be looked at as beautiful in the same eyes that has seen me at my ugliest
Who will be able look at me as though the sun is rising behind my head even when my hair is a mess
For my love language to be spoken in ways I never new existed
We would create a new definition of I love you
Exchanging overrated three worded statements into three worded declarations
Like I adore you, saying sweet nothings like you are the apple to my pie with vanilla ice cream on the side
Or you are my intricate foam displayed dainty on my latte
He will be the skeleton and I will be the separated rib
He will be the living version of the highlights in my bible
Exemplifying the love of Christ in the way that his hands are raised
Eyes closed
Feet centered at the throne of God
He will be the flesh of the pages in my journal every unspoken poem and repeated prayer
And when movie night just wont cut it he will ask if we could spend time soaking in music immersed in the presence of the one that holds us together
Yes, one day I will find love
And we will be more than just two birds of the same feather
We will be one song with many different melodies
Once voice with many different harmonies
A lullaby moving smoothly through eardrums caressing every cartilage of our unborn children
Like sunrises and sunsets
Rising together
And setting in the same unison
I don’t think I know who he is
Where he is
What he looks like
But I wonder
When his restlessness stirs him from the bed he never sleeps in
If he looks at the stars the same way I do
And pretends they’re my eyes taking in every aspect of his being
That every time they sparkle he imagines that it’s me blinking
Occasionally even winking
And the gust of wind reminding him that it’s evening
Is really my breathing
Assuring that yes, I’m still out there
Patiently,
Waiting
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