The Home Stretch

I shudder warmly at the memories.

My lips still tingle when I whisper your name.

No one can touch what we had.

The best we can do is chase, and hope to catch it once more.

Tell me you remember it the way I do.

The brush of your lips on my skin and your hands buried in my hair.

Oh, and the sweetest words I’ve ever heard escaping with your breath.

You left me winded and begging for one more day.

Just one more day before so, so many we’d have to spend apart.

But we walked away instead, simply because it was what we had to do.

That’s how fate plays us sometimes.

You know, the way it somehow makes hugging your favorite person the saddest thing in the world.

But the joke is on the doubters, those who don’t believe that fate can come around twice if necessary.

We’ve got this.

I may not be able to kiss you goodnight tonight, but soon I will.

Until then, the memories are enough.

I’m not pretending it’s easy, but I’m not buying that it’s too hard.

No one can touch what we had, what we still have.

This is the home stretch.

We’re exhausted and we’re a little lonely, but we’re close.

We’re so very close.


2 thoughts on “The Home Stretch

  1. I really love this. Such a lovely balance of nostalgia and hope. Distance is never easy, but it seems like you’re handling it well. Good luck to you.

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