This is not about vampires.
But about me in our truck.
A ride along a suburban street,
the sky in neon pinks and blues;
with the contrasted cut of mountain ranges.

And I thought then, that I was waiting for
life to start; waiting for it to really get going.
All that waiting while it was already racing,
light-speed to a premature finish line.

I did it on purpose. I let the windows
down, watched the moon and stars
compete with the dying sun, and felt the
warm breeze, warning of the coming summer,
play with my hair and kiss my face.

I set the course, knowing you would
come home before I did, wanting you to
wait for me, instead of the other way around.
Because we spent an entire day wishing we
hadn't fought before you stepped into the world
that morning, and sorry just wasn't going to cut it.

In the heady scent of Twilight, when I couldn't wait
to see your face, I suffered just a bit longer.
I wanted you to miss me, too.

02/08/2010

Author's Note: I'd rather had been wrong all along.

Posted on 02/09/2010
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