What I’ve waited for
Losing hope, letting go dreams.
Finally here, mine.
This is the most emotionally unguarded piece in the collection. Priya has lived a full and independent life across ten years on her own — building her career, raising her sons, remaining connected to her community and her friendships. She had not closed herself off to love but she had quietly released the expectation of it. This haiku captures the moment that release was answered.
There is a particular kind of hope that a woman learns to stop carrying because it becomes too heavy. I had set down the dream of this kind of love — not bitterly, but practically. I am a practical woman. And then Scott arrived and I picked it back up again without even deciding to. “Finally here, mine” is the truest thing I have written. The word mine is not possessive in the way it might sound. It is the sound of recognition. Of something returning to where it belongs.