To Each Their Own

His heavy footsteps stop at my door and wait.

I, interrupted from my work, listen for the door handle to turn. There was a time I would have been so eager for his attention, he never would have made it to the door. He'd be in my arms before he walked into my house.

Sometimes, I want to surprise him still. But even if I would, it wouldn't help him escape the pressure he's put himself under recently.

I used to be anxious by the way he hesitates to come home. It's hard for me to admit but sometimes those worries hum uneasily hidden beneath my confident mask. I always have to take a deep breath and remind myself- I have always been a choice he makes. He's allowed to change his mind. Allowed to want different things than he did when we first met. But all choices have a price- and he knows what that kind of gamble will cost him.

And so far, I've chosen him and only him. But who knows what the future holds? I can promise him respect and love and patience; but, only we can decide if that's enough for a future.

But there's more to a man than wants I've learned. There's hopes and goals and doubts. And he pays closer to attention to what he can accomplish than what we can. It's not the love I wanted for myself. It has come with exes I never wanted to have even though they were attractions I pursued. It has been maintained with strength I hoped I wouldn't need because it was not enough to be the only one spoiled. It has been marked with uncertainty I thought would be quieted once we made optimistic promises.

He tries to act like the world doesn't affect him. That he has no doubts or worries. That each day he is closer to success even though happiness eludes him. I have tried to warn him. Tried to steer him off the cliff he drives himself off. But I am just the woman who accepts him and he is the only one who knows him.

And even though his individuality irks me, confounds me, worries me, I know that I add to his insecurities. I thought this relationship would consume me. That a part of me that has always been unsatisfied would be too happy, at least busy, to complain. And yet I ache for an intimacy he cannot give me even though he tries. I guess a relationship cannot fix the parts of ourselves that we rely on to survive. And maybe that is why no matter how long it lasts, a bond can always break given the right pressure.

I sometimes wish he would rid himself of the world. Leave his hopes and dreams and wants. I just want to watch him breathe. Want to watch him see how the world can change when we do nothing at all. Want him to lose the part of himself that knows people are watching him, depending on him, rooting for him, betraying him. But, this man of honor, would never abandon the world for his own sanity no matter what it costs him. It's why I picked him so he would never ask me if he was my first priority. But that is also what makes him more than a chore (though often a hassle). And this is why I wait- for him to take off the day that is carried on his shoulders. To return to me how he left, fearless, bare, and unleashed.