I lay in a tub of bubbles thinking of your soft voice and gentle smile.
I feel your hand wrap around mine as we walk down the street.
I see our reflection in the shop windows.
We seem comfortable.
The shop owner mistakes us for husband and wife and we don’t correct him.
But somehow, you are not ready.

We spend a lazy day doing errands and paying bills.
You leave me in the car as you run in to book a moving truck,
Me ready to move the vehicle if we get scolded.
We are at easy and enjoying the day.
You tell me things you have not told anyone.
But somehow, you are not ready.

I beam as you approach the house, happy to see you.
You kiss me tenderly when we meet and again because the first one felt so good.
You give me a special gift when you didn’t really need to.
It is beautiful and suits me just like you knew it would.
You are tired and I understand you need to sleep.
No, you are not ready.

We talk for many hours about many things.
You do not want to tell all so I do not push.
I want to support you and let you know you can talk to me.
You need to talk to someone.
This is a hard time for you.
I know you are not ready.

We get closer, too close.
Closer than we both intended.
We know this may be a mistake but we are taken up in the moment.
You are strong but I lead you.
You pull back and I let you.
No, you are not ready.

You want this to be different.
We both want this to be special.
It would be nice if it could be.
We would both be happy, perhaps.
One day you will be ready.
But right now you are not ready.
I hope I am there when you are.