Not sleeping

Sometimes, she gets so tired of waiting.

Laying in bed curled up warmly, alone with a phone in her hand waiting for it to ring. Her room is so silent she can hear the rain reverberating off of the ground two stories down. She longs for another noise, a breath rhythmically moving beside her, even if it comes across a line. She lies in the bed by herself thinking the night will come when she hears his voice.

Watching a movie tangled up in her chair cradling a pillow. A love movie, by herself-- she isn't afraid to cry at all the right, sappy, perfect moments. She longs for an embrace, a simple hug, even just a touch that speaks to her.

Cooking dinner for one, she dances alone to the jazz in her living room, longing for someone to dance with her -to share her night with. To look into her eyes so she can see she matters. She waits through hours just to hear I love you and when she does, sometimes it just feels routine.

When the moments come, she still feels like shes waiting. Like he doesn't hear the longing in her voice. The missing. The hurt. The hard. The pain. Does he feel it. Will he say it. It's been all night. She waiting and wanted. To talk. To say something. It doesn't matter if he doesn't say anything. It only matters if he's there. All she wants is for him to be there. She doesn't want to be alone.

Sometimes all shes feel like she's doing is waiting.