See you when the waiting is over.
See you when I can wake up next to you, try to get out of bed, and decide that coffee can wait for just five more minutes of listening to your heartbeat.
See you when we can spend long evenings doing nothing more important than discussing muffins vs. cupcakes or the admirable qualities of cats.
See you when I can watch the subtle little changes that life causes in you from day to day, when I can take delight in all the tiny, inconsequential details that make you who you are. Like the kinds of smiles you have, or the way your voice gets rougher when you’re already half-asleep.
See you when I can cry on your shoulder and know the powerful comfort of your simple presence and strength.
See you when I can hug the frustration right out of you, or find the right words to say, or simply take care of you after you’ve had one of those days when everything goes wrong.
See you when I don’t just get to hear your laughter, but see it and feel it rumbling through your body into mine.
See you when time and space no longer separate us, when I can write my love on your skin instead of on a white, empty screen far removed from your warmth.
When today is difficult, or painful, or just plain sad, I always try to remember one thing.
I’ll see you someday.
Until someday, love.