Window To Your Sole…
As I look in through your kitchen window, you’ve never been more lovely.
Red hair falling over your shoulders, looking like it has never known a tangle.
Still in your work clothes. The grey dress pants. The white button up shirt with 3/4 length sleeves.
And you are cooking fish.
But, you must know that by now.
And that smile.
It makes me not want to interrupt you.
You look completely at peace.
It is causing me to grin and —
Wait! Who is THAT dude? He better be the cable guy.
WHY is his hand on your shoulder?
You are hugging!
Oh, man… my stomach.
A cold chill just went down my spine.
THIS is how I find out?
He looks like a poster boy for date rapists!
I’m literally going to be sick.
Who was there for you during February’s pregnancy scare?
Who had your back for the last three months while you, very unnecessarily, ate nothing but those Weight Watchers meals?
Who knows about your tax problems?
Not little Ronnie ‘Roid Rage there!
You are so ungrateful.
This feels like a dream, yet I know that I’m not going to wake up from it.
I really thought you were the one.
I knew it from the first moment I saw you.
The twinkle in your eye as I held the supermarket door open for you melted me completely.
Maybe I’m overly romantic.
Maybe I’m an idealist.
But, if we don’t believe that there is someone great out there for us, what’s the point of trying?
I actually started believing.
I feel stupid for ever believing that you were different. That there was more to you.
I won’t soon make that mistake again.
Great… now you are kissing him.
I’m getting out of your rosebush, putting you garbage back in the can, and pulling my pants and underwear up.
Yours isn’t the only window in the neighbourhood.