This week, Mama Kat gave us, as one of the weekly writing prompt options, the choice to “write a love letter to the object of your affection.” Here’s mine.
I have wanted you for years.
And yet I have not managed to get you to come.
At first I was nice about it, but now I am getting impatient.
I wake up before the sun rises, looking for the key to making you come.
My pulse rate accelerates, my heart pumping faster and faster.
I breathe hard.
I break a sweat.
And then I sweat some more.
If it’s cold out, I don’t even feel the bracing air because I heat up so fast.
I fall asleep dreaming of you.
I tell people it’s going to happen.
I hope you will come, and I won’t keep it a secret when you do.
I fantasize about what will happen when you come.
Why does it take so long?
So many times, I get together with you. Things start off strong.
I think, this will be the day.
I think about you everywhere I go, on roads, on trails, on beaches, in my dreams, even in hotels in strange cities.
I look for you everywhere.
And yet you don’t come.
I know you can come.
I have seen you come for men, women, people much older than me, and children.
I’m pretty sure you have come for babies in strollers and even a dog or two.
I see them all, chilling out with their bottled waters and their bananas, basking in the afterglow, knowing that you came for them.
But not me. I am still chasing you.
This past Saturday, you came for 261 of them in a row.
But not for me.
When, oh when will you finally come to me, finish time of 29:59 or less for a 5K run?
Once you do come, I’ll want to do it again and again.
After a bottled water and a banana.
Wife of one, Mom of two, Friend of many.