I’ll wait for you to breathe through it; I’m not going anywhere.

I’m waiting for you to finish that song before I start driving.

I’ll wait in the car while you grab one more thing from the store.

I’m waiting for your reply about Saturday plans.

I’ll wait through the awkward pause; say whatever you need.

I’m waiting on the porch with the groceries you forgot.

I’ll wait while you decide; say when you’re ready.

I’m waiting by the bookshelf where you hide old receipts.

I’ll wait so you can grab your jacket from the chair.

I’m waiting for your laugh to come back after a bad day.

I’ll wait in the lobby reading the same page until you arrive.

I’ll wait one more hour; text if you need me to stay longer.

I’m waiting for the right moment to tell you I noticed.

I’ll wait for you at the crosswalk, even if the light changes.

I’ll wait while you untangle that necklace.

I’m keeping your seat warm at trivia night until you arrive.

I’ll wait for you to try again, no rush.

I’m sitting on the porch swing waiting for you to call.

I’ll wait through your long stories about work.

I can wait; take the time you need to explain.

I’m waiting at the café table by the window with our mugs.

I’ll wait for you to pick a spot; I trust your choice.

I waited in the rain under the green umbrella until you came.

I’ll hold the elevator if you’re running down the stairs.

I’m waiting for your text with the link you promised.

I’ll wait on the couch with the blanket you love.

I’m patient today because I know you’re sorting things out.

I’ll wait in the car while you finish that call.

I don’t mind waiting in line with you for the concert.

I’m holding the spare key so you can take your time.

I stay up extra late so you don’t come back to an empty chat.

I’ll wait through the credits if you fall asleep during the movie.

I’m here, in the kitchen, leaning on the counter until you get home.

I keep checking my phone for your ‘on my way’ text.

I’ll wait until your shift ends, even if it’s late.

I’m waiting on the bench by the blue bike rack, not moving.

I picture us still sending each other one-line check-ins that mean everything.

I'll keep offering to help paint rooms even when our arms are sore.

I want to know we'll still meet weekly for bad takeout and better company.

I want to be the person who remembers your birthday before Facebook does.