Split

My life is spit, these days.

Between the moments spent with you.

And waiting to get to spend time with you again.

Our interactions have always been too few and too far between. But even with their frequency increasing lately, it feels like the time in between just keeps growing, and growing.

Like the bulk of my life has been reduced to waiting…

Waiting to see you smile.

Waiting to hear your voice.

Waiting for your gaze to lock onto mine.

I try to be present for the people in my life. Sometimes, it's easy.

When one of my own does something spectacular, I'm there to celebrate it.

Then I think about how nice it would be for you to celebrate it, too.

And know that you would, if you could.

When one of them hurts, I'm there to comfort them.

Then I think about how nice it would be for them to be able to go to you for comfort, too.

And know that you would, if you could.

Still, though. This split, the time spent away from you.

It gets harder and harder.

And the time spent with you.

Feels shorter, and shorter.

Even though I know I keep being allowed more of it.

I don't know what to do.

I don't know how to manage.

I try to make more time with you.

Sometimes it works.

Sometimes it doesn't.

But it's never enough.

And I wait.

And I want.

And I wait.

And I wait.

And look forward to when I can see you again, my love.

It can't possibly be too soon.