I don't ask you to come here, to stay, to not go
Because I am desperate and pathetic and cannot be alone.
I don't ask you to hold me, stay with me, come to the grocery store with me
Because I am scared, or a child, or too needy.
I just would like you to be here for the small moments in life.
I would like to browse the shelves of bookstores with you
Shop for cucumbers
Get the car washed
I would like to share the silence of a Sunday afternoon where we both do different things in the same room, and occasionally look up to smile at each other.
I would like to watch movies in bed with you when you're sick.
Roll my eyes with you while we sneak sips of whiskey out of the bottle when our teenagers are going crazy, and laugh because we don't feel old enough to have crazy teenagers.
I want a
Watch you get ready for work
Hug you when you come home
Share the last bowl of ice cream with you
Kind of life.
Kind of story.
Kind of love.
I would like to be sure of you.
To know, when we're in different room, different parts of the house, different moods,
That you're there,
And that I'm home.