The truth is, I am so tired of waiting. I’ve been in this saddle so long now that the boundary between horse and man has swept so far beyond blurred; two beasts of burden joined at the spine though never quite meant to haul the same load.
The girl, the woman, she, she tells me I’m wonderful. Fills my ears with the sounds I want so badly to hear, floats my heart on champagne tides of golden hued bubble. I am elated, I am overjoyed, I am to both singing and being sung. I am white knight and emergency landing, safe harbor and trapeze net. I am everything they promised, tied up tight in clean, neat packaging and ready for delivery. 
But it isn’t enough. It never is. She isn’t ready, she can’t get over, she doesn’t want. A thousand lines I’ve heard a thousand times, a laundry list of reasons why but always summed into one final why not.
I want to be enough, for once. I want to finally fit that gap, to fill that need. I want to be your reason and your rhythm. I want all this love to have a vessel, I want this wanting to have a home.