I feel my phone vibrate in my back pocket. “Come over”, the text from you reads. So just like every other Saturday night, I hop into my car and follow the dim street lights to your side of town. As I listen to the radio play, our song comes on. The rain starts to drop down, first as a drizzle, then a downpour. I find myself lost in my thoughts, and lost in the music. I wonder how long this will last. How long until you’ll stop sending those two words, “come over”. How long until those words don’t just disappear, but turn into something even better. I smile as I pull into your driveway, just thinking, waiting. Waiting for “come over” to turn into “come home.
— home is in your arms // 3.29.17