Until Then

I'd like to think he waited till midnight
With his thoughts, anticipations,
Desires
All there, just outside her door.

I passed him twice.

First pass, about ten-thirty
He was a romantic
Roses in in hand
The really real ones
Not the dyed bodega ones,
They were the ones of passion
Possibility
Respect;
A romantic maybe attempting
To right some relationship injustice
He could've partaken in
Or just an honest surprise
In that temple of hope
That this sacrifice would bring about
Blessings
In the form of conjoining souls,
His
Hers
Maybe even his, as I have no idea who existed behind that door.

Second pass
Just before slumber
Or at least the attempt of,
He seemed broken
A soldier who's witnessed too much
And is courting defeat within his mind.

The roses still bundled
Now lay across his lap
Attempting a slumber of their own;
He stared into his digital vortex
Tearing away a moment only
To glance my way;
Those eyes said
'you know how it goes bro'
In their attempt to maintain masculinity,
Strength
Though I reckon they'd laid at his feet by that point
Understanding sooner than his heart could comprehend
The door was not going to open.
Someone was not coming home.

I'd like to think he waited until midnight,
There's something romantic about it;
Can't say I would've done the same,
But what a comfort that in this world
The hopeless,
Or is it hapless romantic
Still exist
And subtlety
Still manages to have a place
In matters of love and the fairytales spawned...
©2014clarencecbess