Staring out the window lost in my thoughts, I close my eyes and mind to the world around me. I feel myself drifting back to a familiar place where I feel anxious, happy, sad, love, alive and a deep burning lust, a lust for new things, a new life far away from everything routine. The life that he consumed, the life that he opened the doors too, the life he took with him when he left.
Feeling the tears willing their way up, I open my eyes and find myself in his arms we are yet again having that same conversation we’ve had many times before. I was the dreamer, the romantic, the one that believed if you follow your heart and dreams they will come true. He was the logic behind my madness, a pillar of strength with a heart so big and full of love. He thought he had that hid well. But I knew him better than he believed, every chance I got I’d lose myself in him, the many of days I stood there watching him from the kitchen, and the sleepless nights after we made love, I’d lay next to him listening to his steady breathing as I watched him sleep.
I knew he had obligations to fulfill back home, he had to finish his degree, he had to make his family proud. I supported him in every way a woman in love possibly could, he’d talk I’d listen contentedly, he’d have doubts and worries and I’d comfort and assure him. I knew it’s what he had to do regardless of the love we had, him returning home wasn’t up for discussion…. it was a must.
He reaches up and pushes a strand of my hair away from my tear-stained cheek and tells me to stop crying, wrapping his arms around me he pulls me to him as he kisses me. We lie there in the comfort of each others arms, letting everything around us to just disappear. Slowly we drift off to sleep as the rain pounds on the windows and my heart pounds in my chest.
A phone rings, a dog barks and my heart aches as I am pulled out of my dream, back to reality…
to be continued….