These days it's becoming more evident that you're the only cure for this disease that plagues my once peaceful slumber. I've never really bought into medicinal treatments but at this point I'll try anything. All they've given me bore awful side effects and none of them have brought your touch. Every breath is a heart attack and the promise of your voice wired through a machine held up to my ear is the only thing that's kept me going this long. But this frail heart yearns for more than a voice stretched over countless miles.

The promises and plans we've made are wonderful to indulge yet agonizing to hear. Because they haven't arrived yet and we know it will take time before we can welcome them into the home we've made. Our restless hearts were born to wander but have found solace in each other.

I'll bring the dress if you bring the tux. I'll harbor the patience if you can soothe this ache.

01/30/2008

Author's Note: Time is a killer ; the miles it's weapon. We can outrun him, darling. Kick up your heels...

Posted on 01/30/2008
Copyright © 2010 Elizabeth Seago