So, here I am, praying with every molecule that I have assembled into this body of years that your dream gets deferred once more, and regretting it so badly because I want you to achieve the things you believe will make you happy. With already a joint account in our supposedly spousal names and a home that we have been building together in both senses of the word, I'm still waiting to hear you verbalize the sentiment we seem to share. And it makes me nervous to talk about our shared future so freely and so often without those important little words out in the open. Perhaps it's stupid of me and hasty, but with the constant impending threat of distance, I'm too afraid not to worry that I haven't heard them yet.
"Don't leave me."
"For what?"
"A red coat."
"I can't make that promise."