I listen to the sound of a plane flying over the house and it takes my thoughts with it. I go outside to watch it disappear in the distance like I did with you yesterday morning.
I wonder where you are and what you are doing now. If you are thinking about me and what I’m doing. I feel nervous for you to be safe and pleased with how your day is going. Hoping you haven’t let yourself or someone else stress you out too much.
I wish the week would fly by like the second plane over my head. I want you to come home. I want you here.
I want to put my hands on you, my lips on yours. I want to have you in my arms. I want to smell you and not the fragrance leftovers you’ve left behind in our bed and are vanishing with every moment.
I want your steady breathing to lull me to sleep every night. I want to feel your warmth at night. I want to wake up to you whining about wanting to have some more sleep. I want to eat my breakfast and sip my tea with you. Even if you make a mess my OCD ass doesn’t want to see.
I want the plane to bring you back. I want you here.