I want to see your headlights cut through my living room window, hear your knock on my front door; aggressive and hurried. I want to watch you slip off your shoes and toss your duffel bag across my 8x10 room. Kiss my neck and tell me how hard you tried not to think of me. Tell me about your new hobbies, the distractions that didn’t stick. Tell me about all the things you’ve seen without me and how none of it meant anything at all. Throw yourself onto my living room couch, settle into the indent you left behind as though time had never passed. You tell me we were crazy to ever walk away from this. That you can’t stand the idea of growing without me, that love is somehow enough to save us from ourselves.