I want it.
And if it takes that long to get there, it’s okay.
Because I want you.

I want your rainy days and foggy mornings and nights in front of a fireplace.

I want your red brick and cobblestone and antique facades.

I want your rivers and towns and mountains.

I want your eyes and words and touch.

I want your hope and grief and quiet contentment.

I want what I’ve lost and what you’ve gained and what we never had.

If it takes that long to get there, it’s okay.
Because I want it.
I want you.