my wife has been waiting on me for two decades now.
when we were kids she waited on me to ask her to the prom
she waited on me to let go of my first love and she waited for me to give her my best love
she waited for me to stop breaking up with her
she waited for me to finally really look at her, and finally really see her and love her
she waited for me while i was fourteen months behind a wall
she waited for me to call her in arizona, to tell her i couldn’t live without her, to beg her to come home
she waited for me at the altar, praying i would somehow show up and stop her from marrying a monster
she is still waiting for me to get over a host of irrationally paralyzing fears and take her out dancing
she is waiting for me to find a place of joy and peace that is not dependent on my job, or my day, or traffic.
tonight she is waiting for me while i put in face time with my boss instead of helping her take down our daughter’s bunk bed and putting up her new twin bed.
and when i finally leave here and begin my long trek home, she will be waiting for me to drag myself into bed, to put a hand on her back in the hopes that that touch penetrates her dreams and she knows i am home and safe.
i have no idea what the f*ck i am waiting on. i shouldn’t be here. i should be @ home.