Glimpse of Happiness

Forcing my eyelids to close in the evening progressively gets harder each night. Thinking of you consumes my thoughts, and I lay awake dreaming of the day you will come back. I am not forcing the day to arrive, but am counting down in my head the seconds until the door opens and depression leaves. The clock slowly ticks from two to three, and sleeping becomes more difficult when I envision your face. The wind can be calm, and the weather reasonable, but my heart experiences a natural disaster—beating ferociously with the vision of your body curled up with a blanket on the couch. I glimpse around the corner, but you are not there. I must have been dreaming. If only each second could be spent sleeping, I would see you everyday until the door opens, and you are standing there.