by Juliana Haug

I didn’t intend to fall in love.
I was not seeking for someone.
I truly didn’t need anything.
But then you walked through those doors.
And I started wanting, hoping, and praying
for every little thing.

I wanted to hear your laugh,
and call you at the end of the day.
I wanted to catch your tears,
and hold your hand,
then beg you to stay
for five more minutes
we knew would be an hour.
I wanted to be your space of safety
and you to beas mine
through the sweet and sour.

I wanted to worship God.
Bend the knee at church
and thank the Divine
for putting us together,
and guiding our soulmate search.

I wanted to share all things,
prayers, stickers, and dances.
And pick thousands of daisies,
off the side of the road,
despite the passing glances.

I wanted to go out with you.
Whatever suited our fancy.
Or stay in.
To finish homework, cook, clean,
or chase storms that are chancy.

I wanted to cheer,
being the loudest at your races.
And sit in our converted van,
traveling the world,
making silly faces.

I wanted to dress all in white.
And see you down the aisle.
Then say “I do”
for better or worse
in times of ease and trial.

I wanted to mess up,
to argue and to cry.
Then you’d pull me into your arms.
I’d whisper “it’s okay honey,”
as a soft reply.

I wanted to fold the mounds of laundry,
and be your wife.
To bear and hold our babies,
with their curly hobbit hair,
guiding them through life.

I wanted to grow old together.
Hold midnight dances in the kitchen,
laugh uncontrollably,
say “I love you more,”
and make it a competition.

In the beginning,
you said it was “for science”
I laughed, we kissed, then fell.
All I wanted was you.
But now I put it all behind us.

[ display-posts category=”poetry”]