A Patient Man
I'm a patient man. If I can believe that you'll be there, at the end of our road, I can wait as long as it takes. I look at you and I see my future.
I'm a patient man. But in your eyes, I see frustration. I see urgency, need. I see you searching for another solution. You're young, and you think Time is your enemy—that you will wake one day and find yourself 'too old.' Believe me, you're never too old to love and be loved. And no one will ever love you like I do.
I'm a patient man. Still, I understand that you can't be as patient as I am. If you want children, I know that it has to be soon. Is that it? God, I wish I could give you my children! Is that why you're dating him? The cop. The idiot who thought it'd be cool to bust in on a classified operation! Do you know that he had a background check run on you? That he called Daniel to ask for details about your past relationships? That he called me to complain about your long hours and days away on missions? What would you think if you realized how intrusive he's been?
I'm a patient man. But today you showed me his ring. God! I nearly lost it then! I don't know how much I can take. It was all I could do to turn around and walk out of your lab. I'm sorry if I didn't say what you wanted me to say. But you know I can't. It's up to you. It has to come from you. I've already spoken up, remember? I said I'd rather die than lose you. Have you forgotten that? I haven't.
I'm a patient man. But it's been seven years. Tonight I feel broken. You showed me a ring and asked questions that are still swirling around in my head; "What if things had been different? What about you?" I don't understand! What are you asking of me?
I'm going home now. My patience is worn too thin for one day. I'll have a few drinks and go to bed. With any luck, I will not dream of you. Tomorrow I'll be myself again. My same old patient self…
