In my mind, when I see myself, I'm a little girl, standing at the window, waiting to see headlights in the driveway. Heart racing, hands shaking, waiting. But the car never comes.
As a grown woman, I don't literally stand at the window, but my heart does. Even(more) as I sit on the couch watching Law and Order, or make myself a salad, I'm waiting.
I know he's not coming back. But just like that child who never gives up hope because life hasn't crushed their soul enough, I can't give up the thought that there was just a glitch in the system. He was too young and inexperienced. Too afraid to face his true feelings. He was so jaded from watching his parents fail. His mom married three times, so he clearly never saw an example of love.
I could give you 25 more excuses, and they'd all sound the same. You'd look at me with your adult eyes, feeling sorry for me. You wouldn't see me as the child that I am, shouting out the door, as his car drove away, "Please come back!"
I'd cry myself to sleep as the headlights slowly faded to black, waking up the next day and looking out the window, just in case.(less)