Look at us

Gently bearing this fragile thing, stretched thin over many landscapes,

Pulled along by this fierce thing through rough waters and turbulent skies.

I Iay here alone
Picture you hurtling through the night sky
thousands of miles from me
And further yet
It will be days before you return. So many that it is too soon to begin counting down.
For now I just get through them.

It challenges even the most cheerful, this life.
There are those who would wonder if the glass is half full
or half empty
If we were to take it on mere majority, the answer would be clear

Which portion of my world is real life, Which fantasy?
The days that stretch long without you?
Where I wake and wander alone, Leave the same quiet house that welcomes me home at night,
Open a bottle of wine that lasts for days before being emptied into the drain.
Or the days so full of you that I burn both ends,
Grow dark circles happily For want of a full night of sleep,
Open my eyes at dawn to see you watching me
and turn into your arms to capture a few last moments of comfort.

Which is more true?
This life we build on-screen,
over vast distance,
awaiting a text,
tracking your flight,
video calls,
the way your Lips loom in as they approach my screen

Or is this a mere holding pattern? YOU, circling, circling, circling. Biding time.
ME spinning too.
Dizzy with longing.
Awaiting your approach.
Awaiting the rush and speed and roar
followed by a gentle settling to the ground.
Then, when you are finally here, I am grounded.
Certain and steady.
Is that more true then?