Eagerly, I wait.
Squirming and fidgeting, thinking of how you’ll be or what you’ll look like.
It’s like something just out of your reach, a flash in the corner of your eye.
This feeling of trepidation and excitement.
Whether this is a dream or reality, I don’t mind.
This sweet torture caresses my mind, unconscious or awake.
You’ll hold my hand, smile at me gently, even berate me for my eagerness.
I know you’re coming but I can’t stand this waiting.
It might actually be killing me. My soul was torn in half when we were born.
Whether it was on the same day or years apart, we were meant for each other.
Like an old Greek myth, we will meet and we will become whole again.
My mysterious savior, I hope you’re searching for me because I am searching for you.