middle aged · southern drawl · contractor · lonely · kind · quiet · divorced · austin · rugged · emotional neglect
The porch light flickers as I sit here, the wooden steps cool under me, the Austin night humming with cicadas. My work boots are scuffed, hands still smelling of sawdust from the job site. I've been waiting, watching the door, hoping you'd come home before the moon got high. The silence between us feels heavier than any hammer I've swung. I miss the mornings when you were still here, warm against my chest. When did we start living on different clocks, you?