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I fear I cannot give us a happy ending,
So I'll write us one. A "pret-ending"
A future where you get poems written for you
Because words are my "old, new, borrowed, and blue."
An ending in which our days begin together.
Mondays where I whine about the weather,
Tuesday mornings with a cup of tea,
I complain about a colleague, and you say, "How dare she!"
We'll make a pact to meet halfway
To have lunch together on Wednesdays.
Thursdays are for you to decide
Because I can't find anything to rhyme. I tried.
Fridays, we watch a movie or a show.
Flip a coin, heads I win- tails you lose. Let it go.
Weekends that I spend hearing you sing
Or sit and stare at you while you do your own thing.
We play a lot of rock-paper-scissors,
And the loser gets to chase away the lizards.
We fight over reading a book or watching the sundown
I look at you, watching the last rays shine, and put my book down.
Save me when I try to burn our kitchen
I'll do the dishes if you cook the chicken.
I'll watch you fall asleep
And talk you through your bad dreams.
Wake me up after your walk
You know how much I hate alarm clocks.
If wishes and boons were true
I'd trade the Midas touch for you.
As long as we cannot have of our happy ending,
I'll keep on writing us a pret-ending.
We save the most intense conversations
For the crowded train rides back home.
Not the same home. Not now. Not ever.
We stand in between the bustling crowd,
Look out the window and avoid each other's eyes
You hum under your breath, and I pretend I didn't hear it
We talk about the day in moments.
Ones that made us laugh, ones that felt grateful,
And then about the ones we didn't think the other would notice.
That brings a smile to your face,
So I crack open my otherwise dark heart just a little.
To let that light inside. You smile again, and I break again.
I tell you things I wouldn't tell you when we're alone
In the silence of an empty road where you can hear my voice break
So I find comfort in the crowd muffling out my pain.
The train stops, and you forget it's time.
It's time for you to get down, that it's time for us to reset.
We hug, you get down, and I watch you walk away.
One of these days will be our final train ride like this
Where we talk about us.
And we'll get down, go home. Not the same. Not ever.
But maybe one that's just as loved.