18. Longing

18. Longing

you don’t know that you’ve yearned and hungered

for that sweetest bite until

you’ve tasted it

then you can’t find it anywhere

on store shelves

in the wilderness

beside the mushrooms by the roots of the tallest trees

in your grandmother’s pantry

and I tasted you.

now I can’t look away

now I can’t eat another bite of any other tempting thing

nothing could be so sweet

as what we’d have.

I will admit I long for many, many things.

I long for flowers, even just a single rose

on my birthday, or Valentine’s, or

after I’ve sung and poured out my soul

or even for no good reason at all because the sky is blue

and our life is good

is that so crazy to wish for?

extra caramel creamer in my coffee in the mornings

and cheesy scrambled eggs in bed

and your kiss on my cheek while we watch our favorite TV show

on a lazy Saturday

I long for someone who appreciates the time I put

into buying him his favorite record for his birthday

or picking out the perfect tie

or waiting up for him even when I’m exhausted

every single night

or making all his favorite meals, even though

I hate tacos

someone who never gets tired of looking at me

and thinks I’m pretty with makeup and without

who doesn’t complain when I take hours to get dressed

or when I don’t have time to shower

a man who values me enough

to tell me the whole truth

and nothing less

who is wise and confident enough in himself

to share all of his heart.

I want a man who will play basketball

with our ten year old son

I’ll look out our kitchen window and see

our rickety hoop on our slanted driveway

he pushes past you and scores!

you laugh and you wrestle him to the ground

my two favorite boys

I long for that precious white house

with baby blue shutters that creak in the wind

a porch swing

a turret with a window seat where I could read would be nice

a firm wooden door and a yellow welcome mat

a kitchen that always smells of fresh bread and applesauce

I long for that.

there are duct-taped nerf swords on the basement floor

overflowing baskets of mismatched socks

crayon drawings in the corner of our daughter’s room

overgrown grass and and a sap-covered tree house

shiny wooden floors scuffed by our children’s shoes

a perfect, perfect mess.

in our living room there will be

a beat-up upright

whose keys hold more character than

any shiny grand could

when our kids go to bed we write love songs together

and your voice is the one I dreamed about

since I was a little girl

you sing and my soul is finally


whole, even

when our first daughter is born

we’ll argue over her name because you wanted Chloe and

I wanted Claire

and we agree that we’ll just name the next one Claire

and she comes along and we do

both were placed in our arms

wrapped in pink blankets

but Chloe grew up to love green and the grass

and the swingset you built for her

and Claire loves the upright and sings while I play

and plunks out a melody, I know that someday

she’ll be great under blinding lights on shining stages

the dream I had once, and then faded away when I realized

all I wanted was you.

my heart aches and aches.

one taste and it wasn’t enough

night after night I dream and I wish and I shake

when I realize it will never, never be

at least not with you.

but I have this craving that can’t be satisfied

it’s a throbbing sensation like nothing I’ve ever known

all I want is a home and someone to love and

something to heal this open wound

because nothing else matters

and nothing else will until

somebody loves me too.