I am independent. I support myself. I am self-reliant, but know I have my family to help if needed. I work overtime so that I have somewhat of a savings account. I make myself do things I don’t really want to do, like go to the doctor’s or the gym regularly. I make myself eat healthy; I don’t let myself splurge that often. I’m careful with what I have and what I do: I’m comfortable enough.

I am strong enough to carry the burdens of day-to-day life alone, and then drag myself to bed with a somewhat decent mental health level. I am capable enough to keep a roof over my head and food on my table; self-disciplined enough to take care of everything that needs to be done even when I’m dead tired. I’m there for myself in times of need; I self soothe when I’m stressed or sad, and I’m there for the people in my life when they need it. I take care of my own needs (yes, even those ones) and try to make sure I give myself rest days when necessary.

I do all this alone and am happy and proud to know that I can.

But sometimes, I wish I didn’t have to.

Sometimes, I want to come home after a long, difficult day at work or even just a normal day and see you standing there in the kitchen bringing a spoon up to your mouth so you can taste the food you’ve spent the last hour making for dinner without me asking just because you wanted to do something for me.

Sometimes, while I lie in bed trying to fall asleep, I imagine you’re there to wrap your arms around me and pull me against your chest to hold me while I drift off, ready to keep me safe and warm throughout the night.

Sometimes, as I’m standing at the kitchen sink doing the dishes from the night before, I can feel your arms snake around my midsection; I can feel your face press into the back of my neck while you press your body against mine and whisper “thank you, my love” while littering my skin with small, sweet kisses.

When I sit on the couch curled up, I imagine you’re there to curl up with me. You’d pull my legs onto your lap and drape your arms over them possessively as if letting me know I wasn’t allowed to get up or move them. We would become enamored with the show or movie we put on and your hands would roam freely from my ankles to my hips slowly; a constant reminder of your love.

When I make myself and my roommates coffee, I imagine I’m making it for you because you had a long night and I want to start your day off right. I’d be standing in the kitchen in nothing but one of your shirts that’s too big for me, ready to hand you your cup and give you a hug and a kiss that holds all my love in it for you. You’d set the cup down on the counter and completely melt into my touch wrapping your arms tightly around me, fitting your head into the crook of my neck.

On days off when I’m planning all the chores I have to accomplish before the new week, I see a day in my mind when you’re there to do them with me so they get done faster and we’d have more time to chill together. I can hear the music we’d put on to make it more fun; I can see the way we’d dance around singing at the top of our lungs to every song that came on, even stopping cleaning at times by accident to focus on those duet moments.

I can see how early morning Saturday as my alarm goes off to start the day, I start stirring in bed trying to rouse myself from sleep. I try to get myself mentally prepared for the list of chores and things to get done, but you have other plans. You don’t want to leave bed yet, and you want me there too, so you roll over still half asleep and tug me to lie back down. I protest saying there was a lot to do, but you reply back it can be done tomorrow while I silently stew for a moment thinking about saving everything for tomorrow, but ultimately give into your loving embrace. We lay in bed all day together, half asleep and wrapped up in each other because when do we ever get moments like this? Of course, not the whole day is spent sleeping, because again, how often to do we get time to ourselves with no distractions?

When I am roaming around the store doing my weekly grocery shopping and planning out meals, I wonder what it’d be like to be doing it with you; I yearn for those domestic moments of the relationship we’re yet to have where you make dumb jokes out of things we’ll see in the store or you encourage me to try new food.

At times when I work at home, I imagine you looking and admiring me from a distance as I concentrate on my tasks and call others to confirm schedules and materials. I can imagine your look filled with so much love and pride at the person I am, and how I’m all yours. I can feel the truth behind your words when you sneak a hug in in the middle of my assignment and tell me how lucky you are to have me. I can feel you smiling against my skin before you pull yourself away, and in turn I smile too completely dumbfounded at how much I love you.

It’s nearly every day I think about you, you know. Not a moment goes by when I don’t imagine how different it would, or how much better doing anything would be with you. I don’t even know who you are yet, but I can feel it in every atom in my body: the yearning for a life with you.

I try to be patient; try to focus on myself partly because I had a lot of work to do on the person I am. Partially because “it’ll happen when you least expect it,” or something like that. But I can’t not expect it. As someone who now values myself, I see myself being deserving of that kind of love: the self-sacrificing, totally whipped, head over heels in love that makes every moment with that someone something unique and special.

Yes, I can be independent and can go through life and its demands by myself just fine. I treat myself and am my own cheerleader pushing myself to reach farther, to keep going even when things are difficult. I support myself when needed and give myself pep talks to encourage myself to step out of my comfort zone. I take care of myself to the best of my abilities and am constantly working on self-improving every day. I challenge myself; I love myself. I’m there for me when I fail and promise myself to work harder next time. I give myself grace and patience when the time for it calls; I try to give myself compliments but believing them is still a challenge.

I do everything by myself, for myself. But sometimes, I just want you there to do it with me too.

I’ve already spent so long waiting you; please, don’t keep me waiting much longer.