you see me. You read my thoughts and understand my heart. But I need to verbalize what I’m feeling, so can you just sit with me a while?
I’ve had a man beside me for so many years. A man to do stuff with, go out to eat, go shopping with. A man to see me dressed up and tell me I look pretty. A man’s hand to hold, to feel his muscles and lean back against his chest.
And now it’s just me.
I arrive to events and walk in alone. I put on makeup and heels and the pretty red dress I found on sale, and there’s no one to smile at me. No one waiting to take me to dinner.
The reality of being alone weighs heavy on me right now, and I need you.
I need you to be my man. To be the one who tells me I look beautiful tonight. The one who opens the door for me and stands with me among strangers. The one who shows up to rescue me—handsome, muscle-bound, knight in shining armor who lifts me on his mighty steed and we ride off together.
Only…can you maybe leave off the shining armor? It’s so hard and clanky, and I’d much rather feel your strength, your warmth as I wrap my arms around you. And do we have to ride so fast? The horse jostles too much at this pace and I keep bumping your shoulder with my chin.
Could we maybe change out the horse for a motorbike? You show up in your black leather jacket, hand me a pink sparkly helmet and we roar down the street together. I’ve got a tight grip around your waist and lean in close because of the speed. But I can’t really hear what you’re saying; your voice is lost in the wind. And every time you switch gears our helmets bump. And this straddle position is getting uncomfortable.
Could we maybe just ditch the bike and head to the beach? We’ll kick off our shoes and walk barefoot towards the water. And while the sun splashes its final rays onto puffy clouds you’ll grab my hand and walk slowly beside me. Lingering, peaceful, quiet moments. You sharing your presence with me, listening to me. Being with me.
Yeah, God, let’s do the beach thing together.