Writing Again

I am watching you from across the room. You don't see me seeing you, but I am. I am seeing you from a different perspective. Not that of a casual person who is looking at another person. Not the perspective of an interested party observing the behavior of another. But as a woman looking at a man. Just that. Not a woman who is looking at a man hoping that he is looking at her. Not a woman looking at a man
trying to figure out what he is thinking. Just a woman looking at a man. Looking at him. Watching him. Connecting to him. And I see strength and perseverance and determination and pain and loss and sadness and weariness and struggle and disappointment and burden and strain. I see love and laughter and tenderness and gentleness and understanding and comprehension and awareness and just that intangible
thing that I call, "Oh yeah... I get it!" I am watching you from across the room.

I am thinking. Thinking myself into a migraine sometimes. What if he doesn't like me? What if I am not enough? What if I can't compete? What if I don't fit? What if I can't do it? What if I don't make it? What if I'm not supposed to? I think about that stuff. I think about what she would want. I think about whether or not she would approve. I think about how she feels. I think about whether we are hurting her. I think about whether or not we are hurting you. I am thinking. About. You.

I am remembering. Remembering the bad things that have happened. Remembering the taste of my tears... the taste of failure and regret and sadness and pain and loneliness and broken hearts and lies and deceit and unfulfilled promises. I am remembering those things because I want to feel them as a reminder to never make those mistakes again. To never fall for those people again. To never get involved
in those situations again. I am remembering the good things that have happened. Remembering the images of happiness... the images of laughter and love and smiles and kisses and support and hands and arms and fingers and lips and shoulders. I am remembering everything in between. Remembering her face when she said I love you. I am remembering her strength when she delivered the news. I am remembering her tears when she said that she would never leave me even though she knew it couldn't possibly be true. I am remembering her resolve and her courage and her fire and her determination and her resolve and her love and her life. I am remembering all of those things because all of those things are a part of me. I am remembering.

I am feeling so many things. I am feeling so many things that I feel full. Feeling challenged and questioned and motivated and pushed and supported. Feeling hope and optimism and impatience and antsy and nervous and sprung. Feeling frustration and anger and even rage every now and then. Feeling watched and judged and analyzed and maybe even a little disliked sometimes. I am feeling everything. I am feeling
you.

I am waiting for you. Waiting for you to understand. Waiting for you to get it. Waiting for you to be okay. Waiting for you to believe. Waiting for you to accept. Waiting for you to feel. Waiting for your laughter to finally reach your eyes. Waiting for your hands to really touch me. Waiting for your eyes to really see me. Waiting for you to know like I know. Waiting for you to fold up the barriers. Waiting for you to unlock the doors. Waiting for you to tell me even though you think you're already showing me. Waiting for the right time. Not when she is ready, not when they are ready. Waiting for you to be ready. Waiting for you to trust. Waiting for you to let me. Waiting for you to finish so we can start. I am waiting for you.

I am wanting. Wanting everything to be alright. For you. I am wanting you to want me. I am wanting you to watch me. Think about me. Remember me. Feel me. Wait for me. Want me. So...... do you?