a poem about coming home to a new place

today, i believed in the sun.
i believed that all that light,
all that warmth,
was really there.
that's different than how it was.
it used to be that
when you left, i closed the door quickly;
i didn’t want the cold to get in
(it was 97 degrees)
(in the shade).
but it’s different now.
isn’t that what I’m supposed to say?
or have i been doing this wrong before?
but it really is new now.
you will still leave,
but i will leave the door open
when you do.
the sun will shine into every corner
that you are not in.
the future and i are still running full tilt,
headlong at each other,
neither of us wanting to slow down
or collide,
but the future always flinches first
(or maybe this time,
it will jump into my arms)
(and i will have the strength
to carry it.)

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this poem is for those days when the future you were waiting for is now here. or at least on its way.