Sometimes I would sit on the threshold4 of the front door. I would stare down the street and watch every car that passed by. One day you might be in one of those cars. I wanted that to happen so much.
The bed was too big for just one person. I couldn’t make myself stretch out or sleep in the middle. I stayed on my side and pretended that you were with me. Some nights I could almost hear you breathing. I would roll on my side and want to say your name, but I didn’t know what it was. 1 would just call you “Love.”
“Love?” You would smile at me.
“Are you happy with me? Are you glad you waited for me?”
You wouldn’t answer. You’d just reach over and touch my lips and feel my face. I could feel your hands on my face. You could feel my tears.
“I love you so much.”
The years went by. I tried to imagine what you were doing. I knew you were out there. I knew the person who’s meant for me must be out there somewhere. It would just be a matter of waiting. I knew I could wait forever for you if I had to. I loved you.
When my mom died I was left to handle all the arrangements myself. It had just been her and I, and we’d grown apart over the last twenty some-odd years. One Christmas she asked me when I was going to bring home a girl. I couldn’t say anything to answer that. I couldn’t even look her in the eyes the rest of the night. I wanted badly for you to meet her. She would be so proud of me. So proud that h