She Won't Apologize For Loving You

She watched you drive off. Adoring the sight of you maneuvering your way out of the parking space.
She stood there by the window, wondering what you were seeing on our way out.
Were there cats crossing the street?
Was there an empty plastic bottle on the side of the road?
Were there birds eating leftover crumbs on the floor?

Another car drove on the opposite side, I wonder if he saw you.
But then he's a guy. He won't marvel at the beautiful man that you are.
But he must know how lucky he is to have had sight of you.
She wonders how you looked like.
She wonders if you were smiling like her.

As you continued to drive carefully, she wonders if you were holding your phone, one of your habits she hates.
She wished you had your seatbelt on. But you never use the seatbelt. Well you did, a couple of times, when she would force you to.

Before you disappeared to turn at the corner, she closed her eyes for a second, imagining she was right next to you.
Because all she wanted was to breathe the same air you did.
See the things you did. Sit in silence with you.

She wanted to reach her hand out from the passenger's seat to yours. She wanted to run her thumb through the back of your hand.
She just wants you around. She wants you all the time. All the time.

All the time.

She wants you forever.