What We Never

In this life,

We may never hold hands in a little restaurant.

We may never walk along a beach.

You may never bring me flowers.

Or kiss me on a crowded city street.

We may never sit next to each other on a plane,

on our way to a beautiful island vacation.

Or pick out sheets for our bed.

You may never ask me what I want for dinner on a Tuesday.

Or take me to a baseball game.

You may never tuck a flower behind my ear.

Or lift a veil from my face.

You may never help me put our child to bed.

Or tickle me until I gasp for air.

But in this life,

You have looked at me, in a room full of people,

and made my stomach flip.

You have brushed your fingers across my skin.

You have held me and caught my tears.

You have laid me down on crushed leaves,

and covered my body with your own.

You have stepped into my heart as if it was your home.

You have made me belong to you,

When really, I belonged to nobody.

In this life,

it is almost enough.