Until the day when I meet you at the bus stop,
the same one I dropped you off at some weeks ago,
when I get to stand on my tiptoes to kiss your smoke-scarred lips,
as you have to slouch to envelope
every inch of yourself around me,
keeping me safe, keeping me warm,
I will close my eyes and play back
that night where I sat in
the passengers seat, staring out
my dust covered window
trying to hide the tears
streaming down my face,
because we promised each other
we’d stay strong,
no I miss you’s, no please hurry home.
Until the night when I get to make you your favorite dinner
- rosemary steak and garlic potatoes -
and we get to sit at our dining table,
laughing over wine and memories,
I’ll begin to forget the loneliness I felt when you left,
because I knew you’d come back.
We made a promise to ourselves,
and timing is not always the best,
but in our selflessness we find strength.
I know this is the best thing for us,
for our future, so that our life together
can finally begin,
but the days feel like months,
and the weeks, years,
and this time alone is killing me.
You made me feel alive,
please come back home.
I miss my husband.