Patiently and eagerly, I wait for my clock to strike 11:11 PM. Every night that I am lucky enough to look down and see that time, I make the same wish. I wish to be with him. For three years I've sat in this very spot thinking about him every single day. Not a moment passes when the thought of him is not floating around somewhere in my head. My every waking second consists of wonder. I'm constantly thinking about how his skin will feel when it brushes against mine, how his lips will taste as their presence lingers on me, how our life will turn out, etc. Every dream I have (or at least remember) portrays our future together; our first time, our first home, our marriage, our children. After each night i roll over to greet him in the morning with a kiss. Only after the dazed feeling left over from the dream vanishes I realize what was believed to be him was only my pillow pressed against my back. My conscience knows he is not near but the luxury of last night's dream where his lips were pressed tightly against mine makes everything feel so real. I am yet to feel his kiss but somehow the imaginary presence lingers. I cannot think of a way to describe this constant yearning I have for him. Most nights I cry myself asleep, needing him there beside me, and every night, he is not. I have faith that one night, if even that's all I'm allowed to have, he will be there beside me. I know how hard he is working to make this a reality, I know that I'm not the only one who feels this emptiness, and I know I'm not the only one who is tired of sleepless nights and restless days, but each day is becoming harder to bear. At 11:11 PM not only do I wish for him, I wish to know this truth:
"You know you're in love when you can't fall asleep
because reality is finally better than your dreams."
~Dr. Seuss
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