"I'm waiting on you, Hubs."

I have realized that I sure do an awful lot of waiting on you, Hubs.

I waited 10 very sluggish months for you to finally realize that I was the girl that you should be dating right then.
And, by right then, I meant the then that was July 1, 2006, after 10 months of you somehow successfully eluding me and my not so subtle hints that I was the one.  Hint, HINT.

Smooth move, Hubs. Always, you and your smooth moves.

Your speeches (given through fbook messages) full of lofty metaphors of "bank accounts" and "depositing" our time together, when the other isn't ready to "withdraw," did not discourage me. As I promptly informed you that YOU were NOT a banker. So, lose the lingo, please? Thanks. Just tell it to me straight.

Remember, Hubs, that time I grabbed you round your neck and pecked you on your very smooth cheek? It was on the corner of Calhoun and St. Phillips. I made you walk me almost to the dorm after a pretend visit to the library. You do know that I only went there and pretended to study because of you, right? It was one of my only desperate excuses to be so near to you for such long periods of time.

Well, I think that night and that street corner episode was one of the few times that I didn't wait on you. I laid a smack-a-roo on you and then ran across the street. I didn't even look back.

What would have happened if I had looked back? Or, lingered over your cheek?

I wonder...

Then, I waited (almost) 3 (whole) (long) years for you to ask the BIG ONE. But, I was ok waiting on that one. Well, I still told you on a regular basis that I was SO not interested in dating you for very much longer. Romantic and ever so sweet, right?

I wait on you to make decisions. You know, about what you want for lunch. Or breakfast. Or dinner. Or anything food related for that matter. Sometimes, you drive me nuts, and I just want to throw a fat PB&J on you. But, I know that will probably be the answer to your prayers, so I refrain. I have vowed to not wait on your mealtime decisions anymore!

I wait on you to get home from that dreaded place that you call work. It steals you away from me too much. And, I especially hate waiting for you to leave it. To make your escape and come home, just so I can wait on you to decide what late night snack you are craving.

But, here's the thing, Hubs. And, it is a very important thing.



I would wait forever for you.