Waiting

It is your pale face I envision whenever I close my eyelids to darkness.

It is your glistening brown eyes I imagine when I need to see clarity.

Why the fuck do I feel this way about you?

Why do I get this feeling that I can’t walk away?

Even if I stay up waiting for your text.

Your call.

Your snapchat.

For you to even say hello or ask me how I’m doing.

I’m always waiting, but I’m okay waiting for you.

My patience hasn’t been lost.

Because the feeling I get when you’re here, when you’re right next to me, wrapped up in my arms and your head resting on my chest, it makes the wait worth it.

You’re worth it, and so I wait.