I can’t wait to see you next week;
With your green golden-specked eyes and your black and gold Steelers jersey,
Every time I see you I lose my breath.
I always find myself running straight into your arms;
Joy bubbling up out of me in the form of pure laughter and;
As you hug me back just as tightly
I smother your face and neck in
Tiny, long, sentimental kisses.
The first ten minutes are always of me trying;
Once again after a year of several failed attempts-
To figure out how in the world you are capable of existing.
I go from loving you,
To missing you,
To constantly wanting to be
in your arms,
To asking a million questions of
how you’ve been,
All in those short ten minutes,
Which take place after I’ve hugged you for the first twenty.
The motion of it all never gets old-
But I will never get used to you.