I Will Wait

She closes her lips and leans in for that inevitable smooch,

but I panic and kiss her on the cheek.

She no doubt has counted this as the third strike for me, 

but she makes me incredible nervous.

Her eyes flutter open,

but she doesn't flee.

She gives me a confused look of content, and tells me good night,

but I refuse to admit defeat.

This moment is supposed to be what I always imagined,

Mariah Carey on the roller coaster from her "Fantasy" video.

Instead, we part ways feeling more like a sand bag sinking into the St. Croix river.

No, I will not let it end like this.

I ball my fists and try calling out to her.

She is already in her car.

My throat becomes tense as I jog toward her.

Her tail lights shimmer across my face,

but she never looks back.

I contemplate a text,

but I hate the insincerity of it all.

A phone call perhaps?

No, it too is inappropriate for the situation.

I stand still in the middle of the street and shout "I love you,"

but it's too little, too late.

The car is too far away.

Another missed opportunity.

Two ships unknowingly passing one another on a long journey across the Pacific. 

Good bye my love.

I will wait for you forever.