What Are You Waiting For?

You speak of connection

the way the sky speaks of stars...

distant, unreachable,

always visible,

never close.

And yet..

this rhythm between us hums

like a song stuck in the marrow.

Not the chorus

but the pause

before it drops.

Every time I ask,

your answer is “maybe.”

Your voice tiptoes around certainty

like it’s a fire too hot to hold.

But I am the one standing in it,

barefoot,

offering the warmth back to you

again

and again.

The world sees us

as separate creatures.

Two lives, no tethers.

And that should be fine...

except your silence leaves bruises

in places only a soul can feel.

I make the plans,

I clear the time,

I fold joy into the corners

just so you might

arrive.

But your feet

never touch the trail.

Every canceled day

is another rip in a dream

you pretended to hold.

I’m the only one bleeding

when you turn away.

And still..

I feel the pull.

Still..

your name stirs

in the quiet hum

between verses of a song

I didn’t ask to carry.

What are you waiting for?

The music asks that too.

Everywhere it follows me,

whispers the thing I won’t say aloud:

That I’ve already chosen you

in every act of patience.

That I’ve already burned

in the longing

you won’t name.

But I am not a secret

you can keep in the shadows.

Not a myth to bust

on the days you’re bored.

Not a flicker

you watch from afar.

I am the lightning

before the bloom.

The path that demands

footsteps—not fantasy.

Don’t you see?

I’m not chasing.

I’ve been still.

I’ve been ready.

But now

I am folding up the quiet offerings,

the spontaneous gifts,

the porch-light plans.

Because your fear

has weight,

and I’ve carried it long enough

with no hand reaching back.

It’s not that I’m too much.

It’s that I was enough

and you didn’t know what to do with it.

I could scream.

I could vanish.

I could drag your name

through every verse of my healing.

But I won’t.

I’ll just walk.

Not in spite,

but in sovereignty.

Because waiting for you

has started to taste like forgetting myself.

And that song..

the one playing everywhere,

the one that reminds me of you..

it isn’t about you anymore.

It’s about the me

who deserves to be loved

without delay,

without maybe,

without question.

So unless you plan to show up

with more than smoke in your eyes

and hesitation on your tongue

step back.

Because I am done

dancing to music

you won’t join.