Finality of it All

I wait.
I see it coming before it happens
I always do
The words haven’t taken shape
They don’t know these words yet. They haven’t felt them.
Haven’t formed them within their minds.
I see the changes swimming behind their eyes, as they watch
and judge.
The changes in their voice
The patience. The hope. It all turns to tolerance and compliance
Theirs. Not mine.
I watch them get fed up. A part of me knows this.
I know this and still I wait.
Waiting for those words to make it all real.
Waiting for them to open their mouths and utter those words
For the act of being spoken makes those words real
And maybe I want it to be real.
So I act surprised.
Truly, I must be surprised.
Because the finality of those words crush me
and I react too late and wish I acted sooner
I shouldn’t be surprised.
I always see this coming.