Monday, June 11, 2012

“She’s waiting for me…”

I was waiting for time to catch-up with my love for you. The love that began in the dreams and prayers of a little girl in a warm bed with wide and sleepy hopeful eyes. I am waiting on distance to become less and less, for flight dates and air fare, overstuffed suitcases and goodbye tears to be trampled by hello kisses. I knew your heart before I knew your face. I knew the soul before I knew the man. For these reasons, when I read your first 50 words or less, I knew you. My spirit rang and tinged and chimed and belted out a song, “I think I could love this man.” I waited for decades for your arrival, so even though you were surprised, it seemed natural to wait for your heart to heal. The months seemed like minutes, the weeks were seconds, the days were blinking moments, and finally time caught up with the grown woman who had wide hopeful eyes and was laying down in her warm bed. On a bright autumn morning, I received the heart that I treasure the most and the feeling is the single most satisfying memory I own. I have received the heart before I have received the man… and I am waiting for him; it feels natural.


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