I was in my house. My childhood house, the one on Lirac Court. This time everything was smaller. The bannisters were lower and the doors frames were smaller. I wasn't kid-sized anymore, I was dad-sized.
I was standing in the doorway of my bedroom. I thought I heard you down the hall. I checked my phone and opened our chat -- you were responding to my texts again. I followed your voice into the master bathroom, the one where my mom always was before school. You were there. You were mom-sized. This wasn't my house. This was our house.
You saw me come in. You were at ease around me. You started to take your clothes off. I stopped you and hugged you. You whispered something to me as I held you. You told me that you had been watching me in my apartment, waiting for me to fall asleep. That you had been waiting, and waiting, and waiting, and waiting, and waiting.